My Cardboard Balcony

S'more Cupcakes by Belinda Roddie S'more cupcakes cool in their wrappers as the tin is set out where the light is just catching the edge of the tablecloth, glass after glass of milk settling in the dust of the kitchen. We pass out sweets on plates, plastic and bright red, chewing through the goo of marshmallow paste, the sugary taste exploding on our tongues. Our rendezvous has wine on coasters, cookies on display, and just the right amount of cheese in bowls to serve with crackers. We plow through the day with flavor in our mouths, flame in our souls, and hot liquor and dairy to chase down our treats, whether salty, sticky, or brown.

There was an old bible I picked up from the church still sitting in the corner of my bedroom as I packed my last suitcase. I wasn't even sure why I had kept the thing - maybe I had simply forgotten about it, and it certainly looked as if it had, appearing to be more dust than leather or paper. Still, I picked the bible up and brushed away the sheet of age, staring at the stamped golden letters on its cover. Why did I snatch this from the church? I guess because it reminded me of her.