I lower my chest and inhale
everything blurs
the white line in front of me,
the screaming crowds.
My heartbeat slows and suddenly it’s all clear to me,
my own crystal ball
In the back ground,
the shot explodes
and instinctually, I fly
I know there are others around me
but for once–they, it fades to white behind me.
It’s just me
rhythmic drummer feet
against the asphalt
inching towards the finish line–
wide ass grin plastered to my face.
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
I used to hold tight the story that my dad was an excellent cook when he got married, and my mom had no clue. Thus,
I am hungry. No breakfast feels sturdy enough, hearty enough to get me through to the mornings these days. I have tried everything, including not