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.
There was an initial heavy thud followed by three or four quick bangs before my college roommate, Katherine, landed at the bottom of our skinny wooden stairs, her long limbs askew. My other roommates and I ran to check on her. The other two quickly...
Last week, I made a day trip to see my grandmother. It’s six hours of driving. I loathe driving. It is possibly one of my least favorite activities in all of the world. Additionally, my grandmother always wants to go to Wal-Mart when I go to visit...
I gingerly put my Mickey Mouse, the one that came all the way from Disney World, in my Strawberry Shortcake backpack and grabbed my Pac-Man lunchbox. I was very excited because it was the day of my first show and tell. There was no question that I...
When my daughter, Conley, was a younger version of the funny, charming, dancing, gap-toothed girl that she is today, as I tucked her into bed, she would say in her sweet voice weighed down with sleepiness, “Mom, today was a good and a fun day.” It...
As I sat in my last class of the day, Algebra II, which was not only my most despised subject but also the one that I was remarkably inept in, my eyes drifted from the nonsensical letters and numbers on the board to the windows that lined the left...
Plumes of black smoke stuttered up from the muffler of my grandmother’s abused Buick Riveria as she rocketed down the unfamiliar winding road. Zack and Angie, my much younger brother and sister, squealed gleefully as they tumbled over every each...
The Crestview Cemetery was in plain view. It was way too spooky, too dark, and too unkempt for me to linger any longer than I already had. It never had any visitors. Not even the hoodlums bothered to vandalize it. I glanced over at the tombstones...
The clock was bearing down on midnight of a day that already seemed 86 hours long when Tony and I crossed into Welch, the once booming mining town that many of the old-timers still called “Little New York” because of the confluence of cultures who...
Snoring makes me an irrational, seething, rage-filled lunatic. My husband, Tony, fell asleep on the couch over the weekend when we were watching a movie. I was still awake and had every intention of finishing the movie. However, between the grating...
I was awake before the alarm, determined to make the morning as easy as possible for my girl. My daughter was entering a school for the first time in 14 months, a new school. No longer was she entering a building crammed with adorable five year olds...