My Cardboard Balcony

Week into the new year, guys. And what did I do tonight? Grab the guitar again and perform in front of an audience for the first time in over a year. I played (and helped sing) "Winter Song" with my sister and a couple of friends at a concert at my sister's former high school. As I always say, it's refreshing to get back to my musical roots. Also, I have started Episode Five of my miniseries. The way this is turning out, this will be a six to seven episode series. Which is fine by me. Sometimes, shorter is better. Not short enough to be a film, but short enough to be a good romp. Tomorrow, my parents will be meeting my future in-laws for the first time. Am I nervous? Yes. Excited? That, too. This is the first big step in getting my wedding, and everything else in my future, rolling forward. I'm thrilled to see how both my fiancée and my families are becoming one. It's incredible and amazing and I'm looking so forward to it. And now, I'm goi...

No Tropical Vacation by Belinda Roddie "Why is the volcano so hot?!" shrieked the virgin sacrifice.

Listen to each note soar on silk, each string bouncing tenderly instead of snapping beneath the grooves of your fingers. Everything was once stiff and unyielding; now, it is all soft and fluid, the collapse into a dozen pillows after a hard, exhausting day. You are invigorated by the sound. Watch the audience never take their eyes off you. It has been quite some time since you've performed live. You haven't grown wooden. You haven't lost your touch. The melody still flies from the fretboards, caressing your throat with your voice is finally freed from its cage.

The Customer by Belinda Roddie The customer wanted a block of cheese, a loaf of bread, and some cider for a rather modest gathering. She wore green shorts, a blue T-shirt, and some tattered gray sneakers, as if she had gone out jogging. When she went up to pay, her face went red, the once bright light in her eyes now fogging up. "I don't have enough money," she said. "I should've known. My ex-wife took me for all that I had." An older man replied, "I'll pay for it. Don't worry anymore, and don't give me a cent back." As she cried, the woman thanked the stranger profusely, as faith was restored in humanity.

"Looks like you could use a trainer," Vanessa commented to the man in the corner, struggling to lift a twenty-pound dumbbell. "Screw off," the man grumbled, his scrawny arm visibly shaking as he tried to lift the weight. Vanessa reached over and took it away from him. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I once didn't have biceps, either." She readjusted the sleeves of her gym shirt and beckoned him to a set of dumbbells. "C'mon. I'll start you off easy."

And Honey by Belinda Roddie You drink milk from a stream to the east of a warmer, starrier night. It is sweet and filling. You do not hunger for wheat.

Violet had wrapped herself up in the blanket as if it were a cocoon, and I could do was lift her up like a bundle and carry her to bed. She was fast asleep before I even placed her on top of the mattress. When I went back to my room, I did my best to clean up everything. Plastic bags were everywhere, and I kept my hands under cold water for a good half hour. It took ages to finally rub the rusty stains off.