My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie I looked over at her as what she said finally processed. "You want to do what?" "You heard me." She spit a thin, orange rivulet of tobacco out of the corner of her mouth, adjusting the brim of her hat with stained fingers. "Shouldn't have to repeat myself." "Yeah, but...the ranch, and the kids..." "Aw, heck with the kids, Grant," she scoffed. "They're old enough to wipe both their asses and the cattle's asses. Bottom line, I'm getting out of here." "You're really going to take this offer? I mean, it seems mighty sketch." Smiling with nicotine-braised teeth, Jay brushed a patch of dirt off her boot and began walking back to the house, the tails of her jacket bristling. "Jay Morris," she crowed to me, as I scratched at my hairy chin, "never says no to a good gamble!" *** Five years ago. That was after I had sold the ranch to my brother. And th...

Gloria walked by the crib and stared on the creased blankets where the baby had once been. Not that little Joey had gone very far; his father had carried him, half-asleep, down to the den, where he had turned on a late night television talk show and was listening to a high-pitched comedian trying to squawk over pasta-strained laughter. She let her fingers curl around the tiny bars of the crib and felt them twitch.

Whew! A lot of big things have happened in my life during the past week, so let's slam 'em out before I get too tired and crash on my bed! Okay, so first of all, my girlfriend is living with me. Like for reals living with me in my parents' place. Yes, we are searching high and low for apartments. It's tough, and we're being asked a lot of questions because I know landlords and apartment owners have been burned in the past. But we're still truckin' onward and trying to find a place. Because we really, really need to get out of my hometown. My girlfriend has started her new job as a receptionist at an optometry office, and it sounds like she really likes it! It's a 9-5 job that pays well, and it's a great step in the right direction for both of us in terms of income. I am still working my temporary scoring job (which has plenty of fun anecdotes if you're willing to have a cider/beer with me and listen to my ramblings), and I've received n...

I refuse to believe I've run out of things for this segment! Here's an essay I wrote for a human rights class I took in junior year of college. Deal with it! DEAL WITH IT, I SAY! Same-Sex Marriage in the United States of America by Belinda Roddie Since 2003, the issue of same-sex marriage in the United States has grown increasingly prominent in politics and culture. However, even beforehand, in the 1990s, measures were being taken to prohibit same-sex marriage state-wide and federally. Where does same-sex marriage fall in terms of human rights categories? Is it really up to the states to decide, or is it truly a violation of human rights to prohibit homosexuals from marrying just as heterosexuals do? In order to look at the United States’ possible violations of homosexuals’ rights to marry, it is important to look at marriage as an institution and as a right, as well as recap the various constitutional measures that the country and its states have taken in either ...

"Where is he?" "There. By the lower deck. See?" "I don't see him." "I know. You gotta squint a little. See, there. He's wearing the red coat." Josie blinked. "That's not a he, Rocker." "...What?" "The Sergeant, the one in the red coat? That's a lady." "...No." "Yep." Rocker shook his head wildly, his long blonde hair flying everywhere. "Not possible." Josie smirked. "Guess you weren't squinting hard enough."

I'm Just Not In The Mood by Belinda Roddie I'm just not in the mood for these petty fragments that you call day-to-day life. And shut up about patience or sacrifice because I'm not interested in your usual fluffy philosophies. Let's, for once, retract all attempts to be calm and deep in a shallow world. Let's instead try to pretend we're shadows on the wall, or puffs of wind bursting from a cold kid's gaping mouth. Let's be nothing, and yet, let's be all the little things that we ignore or take for granted. Dreams may not come true, and adages may not hold weight, but I cannot lose my own life before I die.

The mirage of the hotel wobbled and wavered for just a moment, but after Claire blinked, it was as if she were staring at an oil painting, the smears never melting away from the wall illusions and tricks of the doors and windows. For something that was a mere glitch of the eye and mind, the hotel felt very real - and very, very welcoming.