Sosha Lewis is a writer whose work has been featured in The Washington Post, Huffington Post, MUTHA Magazine and The Charlotte Observer.
She writes about her sometimes wild, sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking past filled with free-lunches, a grimy sports bar, a six foot tall Albino woman who tried to save her teenage soul, felonious, drug addicted parents, an imaginary friend named Blueberry and growing up nestled in the coal-dusted mountains of West Virginia.
I rested my hands on the sink and allowed the coolness of the porcelain to twirl up my arms. I reared back and thrust my face within an inch of the toothpaste splattered mirror. I examined what I saw. I had been spared the teenage of curse of angry...
There are a few simple things about my life that blow my mind. Living in a house with rose bushes, being able to whip up a cake from ingredients that I just happened to have in the pantry and having enough underwear and socks to make it a couple of...
There were two things that my mom, Starr, loved – beating my ass and Whitney Houston. My mom believed in corporal punishment. She was often heard quoting Proverbs 13:24 – spare the rod, spoil the child. She practiced a very literal...
We needed to get up. The morning was going to be rushed, I knew. But, I let her sleep on. She had conned her way into sleeping with us the night before. She’s getting too old, too big for that. I never sleep well when she does, but still I...
His name was Jerry, but everyone called him Jukie. A nickname he earned by tagging along with his older brothers to local bars and juke joints in the dusty Appalachian coal camps that his nomadic family bounced between. While his brothers were...
There is poor and then there is powdered eggs poor. Along with its more famous cousin, government cheese, powdered eggs were a staple in the boxes of food that my family received from the welfare office. If you slapped the cheese between a couple...
Dear Mom, You’ve been gone for 10 years. Some days it feels as if you haven’t been here for decades, other days the shock feels as raw and fresh as it did on that bright, cloudless, Carolina blue sky day when I learned you had finally lost your 30...
They were made with heavy stock paper. My name, followed by Assistant Vice President was printed with foil stamping that twinkled in the right light. I rubbed them between my fingers. I smelled them. I placed them in my card holder on my desk. I put...
I have a pretty swell life. I am college educated. I have a house, an SUV and an iPhone. I am married to the love of my life, and we have a goofy, tender-hearted, rock & roll loving kid who makes me warmer than a southern summer day. I go to...
My cell phone rang when I was on my way to the hospital to meet my nephew. It startled me. I was concentrating on navigating the winding mountainous roads of my home state, West Virginia, and I was surprised that I had reception. I was even more...