My Cardboard Balcony

The Creep Was Lingering by Belinda Roddie The creep was lingering right outside the door of my apartment, just waiting for me to step out, made up, cute dress and all. He had that smirk painted across his jowl, and it was so slimy it made me wince as I sidled past him, purse tight in hand. I headed toward my car, but not before he whistled loudly through the large gap in his teeth. I turned, ready to make a sharp remark, but already, my girlfriend was whirling out the door, cuffing the creep with a battered hand and slamming him against the railing. It gave him such a bad bruise that he took off without much time to lose.

"Nine million bottles of beer on the wall, nine million bottles of beeeeeeer..." " Shut up!" Hark screeched from the back of the van, slamming his shackled wrists repeatedly against the interior alloy. " Shut up, shut up, shut up ! " "Easy, big boy," grunted the sheriff, though he still nodded a silent "Shut your trap" to his deputy, who abashedly focused on his bottle of iced tea instead of singing as they whisked like a tumbleweed down the dirt road.

Coffee Basket by Belinda Roddie I prepared a little basket, and it's got a tiny bag of coffee for everyone in my apartment complex. There's dark roast for Bill upstairs, with the stereo blistering his ears, canceling out any corked or uncorked regrets he's had in his life. Hazelnut for Missus Ginger with the pear-shaped nose on the second floor, sorting out her jewelry collection one turquoise at a time. And espresso for the sharpest tongued, fifteen-year-old, sci-fi-obsessed girl I've ever met, whose name seems to change every week to me, with the UFO full blazon on her black shirt where the cartoon cosmos are ironed on just right on the fabric. Joe's not too strong for her, either, because when she invites me into her family's apartment, brews the stuff right in front of me, and drains it from the porcelain mug, her eyes light up into a thousand handfuls of stardust - the kind you can scoop up with a spoon and stir into a cup, hot a...

By the time George had strung all the beads together, the bell had rung and it was time for lunch. However, even as the other students scrambled for their neon backpacks and pulled out shiny plastic lunchboxes filled with chocolate chip cookies, bags of pretzels, and peanut butter sandwiches with white bread, George didn't leave his desk. He tied the necklace up in a neat know, walked up to his teacher's desk, and handed her the jewelry.

Daffodil Dullard by Belinda Roddie Let the woman woo you and rattle up your innards until your petals all fall off and your goofy smile lingers uncovered by the seasons. And when she licks the pollen off your lips, be sure to sneeze loud enough for the critics to shake their heads at you, because you'll never be smart enough for them, but you'll be sharp enough for her.

Still no OneWord update! What is this world coming to? This better not get past three strikes.

Slacktivist by Belinda Roddie Another petition signed, imbibing cider by the laptop. Too afraid to go outside, instead hoping that the men in suits will choke on their own neckties upon seeing such a slew of people demanding that a prisoner go free through an online website. People say I don't help enough - the truth is, I'm scared. Scared of being seen or heard away from a computer screen. Worried I'll be shot through my sign straight into my skull, a perfect o in the middle of Peace. Scared that somehow, in a cell after being a true activist, hosed down, cuffed, slammed into the asphalt, ankles torn by dog's teeth, nothing I have done will create even an echo in the vast space of time.