My Cardboard Balcony

"I miss you." "I know." "When can I see you again?" "I don't know." "It's so lonely without you." "I know." "Where are you going to go now?" "I don't know." "I want you to come back." "I know." "Do you miss me, too?" "I don't know."

I didn't want to have to write another one of these. I hate the fact that I do have to write them. However, something tells me that I will be writing more of these as time goes on and I get older. Some people I write about, I hope, will pass on peacefully and at a good old age. Other times, I expect that the deaths will be untimely and very, very painful to deal with. On October 22nd of this year, my cousin, Michael Blackford, died in Germany from advanced pancreatic cancer. He was seventy-five years old, but he always had the spirit of someone much younger and full of life. He was an adventurer in so many ways, literally and figuratively. When he wasn't extensively traveling around the globe, he was studying our genealogy, making funny commentary in regards to politics, dressing up as Santa Claus, volunteering at museums, and being an amazing husband, father, and grandfather. He left behind a wonderful wife, who happens to be my grandmother's cousin; four children, and n...

"I'm Frost. Charmed," the girl in the white and blue coat said. "Frost?" I asked, furrowing my brow. "That's your real name?" She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Well, no," she replied. "It's a nickname. My friends wouldn't call me Jack Frost, but they had to give me some moniker for my winter enthusiasm. So, there you go."

This year was the first year I ever spent Christmas with a family other than my immediate family or my more immediate relatives. However, I did spend Christmas with my future in-laws, at the house that my fiancée grew up in. I was initially nervous about being a part of my in-laws' holiday, but as it turned out, it was really nice, fun, and calming. Christmas itself, after so many weeks of working longer shifts, dealing with shopping, and trying to keep in the spirit, was, all in all, a really lovely experience. And then I went back to my apartment. I don't know if you'd call it the post-Christmas blues or not, but I had a really hard day after Christmas. It's interesting how, after two days of being in a warm, comfortable place getting to know your future family more and more, you can get really overwhelmed by the routine you have become so accustomed to back home. I'll be okay, don't worry - tomorrow, in lieu of a Storyteller, I will be putting up yet anot...

Hunger by Belinda Roddie There wasn't much left in the old man's soup bowl.

"So how did the interview go?" asked Amy. "I can't safely say," Richard replied. "I went in, all dressed up in my suit, ready to go. The manager was very polite. But he kept asking about my former work." "Oh?" "Yeah, he didn't seem to get that the job I was going for offered more money than my previous job," chuckled Richard. "Like it was bizarre to him that he could provide me a better gig than the ones I already had."

Blue Lights by Belinda Roddie Blue lights were strewn across the birch trees that sat in Dad's front yard, while red dripped from bush after bush, artificial against green. We stopped by to have drinks with our old man, who had freshly retired, improving his golf swing, and finding a new zeal in sports, cuisine, and politics. I was impressed that he had taken time to decorate at all this year. When I commented on that, he smiled and said, "the new girlfriend told me that I should." My brother nearly dropped his glass. "New girlfriend?" "Yes," our dad answered. "She's coming to meet you this Christmas Day, so be nice to her and do as I say."