My Cardboard Balcony

Pretty Princess by Belinda Roddie She has sequins on her flowing skirt and stubble on her chin. She can woo the boys with wiggling fingers, bathed in vibrant, lush satin. She is curves and bends and esses, her leg angled just for show. They will buy champagne for her in jugs, the booze adding to her glow. Then she'll go home, strip, and change herself into black suit and necktie. She'll go down the street to the bar and grille to catch a damsel's eye. She is king and queen together, purple royalty as one. Pretty princesses need a night out, while dapper princes need their fun.

"Quite the eligible bachelor, aren't you?" asked Lord Bishop over a cup of tea and a scone. "So many years, and I've yet to see a bride." Sir Walter smiled. Lord Bishop was not privy to his private life, and he never would be. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands against his lap, his fingers heavily scarred from the recently terminated war. "Sometimes," he murmured, "brides aren't exactly a priority. More tea?"

It's Simple by Belinda Roddie You squeeze lemon juice on a dead man's eye to get just the right amount of tartness. If his last gaze was seasoned with a garnish of cynicism, then the bitterness brings equilibrium to the platter.

No OneWord update yet again. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

I Want To Go by Belinda Roddie I am trapped between the wall of fortitude and the corner of comfort. I feel the need to travel, but it is as if everything holds me back. I know that exploration does not come with security, and vice versa. But I do know this: I want to pack my dreams in a bottle and drink them, so they may become tangible in a crisp, cleansing tonic. I want to bring a group of friends with me on a road trip to the edge of the world, never mind the fact that the globe is not flat. I want to sleep under the stars with kiss marks on my cheeks and chin, my love beside me, sleeping as the constellations open up their arms to me. And I will be frightened, but in the best, most invigorating way. Fear is different than anxiety. Hope is different than ambition. Bravery, more than anything, is different than venom stewing in my stomach. I want to go home, and yet I want my home to be a million contrasting places. I wish it could be one and many a...

No OneWord update on the website today. Maybe it's just a case of the Mondays for the webmaster. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

I held the bauble delicately as if I were balancing a tiny world on my battered palm. It was nothing short of beautiful. Not quite silver, not quite gold, it shone like a perfect globe untouched by angry elements, natural disaster, or humanity's aggressive boots. When Mona took the thing away from me, I was ready to cry. Somehow, I found more solace holding a mere metal ball than any other gift I had been given in my entire life.