My Cardboard Balcony

The Elements by Belinda Roddie blowing smoke out of a pipe creates a constellation of fire that rises up to meet the heavens, which are collapsing down upon us, so they meet somewhere in the middle, where the clouds spit out their rain like a philosopher spitting personal truths in an end of the world tirade

After the party had toned down somewhat, four of us broke away from the rest of the group and went out for alcoholic milkshakes and cheap appetizers at the closest bland diner. As we sipped on Bailey's and mint and chewed on rubbery mozzarella sticks, we got on the topic of high school, and how lousy it really was. I remembered going to prom with the class stoner, who spent the entire evening getting high in the parking lot and then getting dragged away by the cops. "That's nothing," my friend Alec said, "compared to the date that took me to the worst pizza place ever when I was a sophomore."

There are dozens of mosquitos buzzing above our heads, as we slather on repellent and pass around cans of cold cider as we look out over the crest leading to the lake. The earth here is so unstable, but we've found a patch that holds our weight. I sip from my can and you sip from yours, and then we switch and giggle when we taste each other's spittle. When I reach for your hand, a bug settles on my wrist, ready to dig in. And you swat it, hard, making my fingers tremble.

It was called the Patriotic Maze, though it felt anything but. The mayor figured that the corn maze from the Halloween fair should simply be redone for every holiday, which included Christmas, Valentine's Day (though a lot of families were against that, given what some couples did in the maze), and of course, the fourth of July. I was weaving through a nightmare of withered, drought-stricken cornstalks while tiny American flags waved around listlessly in the summer breeze above my head.

  by Belinda Roddie Stacy and Annie watched as their car slid down the hill and disappeared over the cliff. "Bonerkiller," whispered Stacy. "Totally," Annie replied, wrinkling her nose and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her camo pants. "So what do we do now?" Stacy shrugged one shoulder beneath her sleeveless jean vest. "Get high, I guess?" Forgetting at least for a while that they no longer had a way to get to the fireworks show - or back to civilization, for that matter, not to mention the fact that the car had been Stacy's brother's car and to buy a new one was equivalent to donating both your kidneys - the two girls lit up and sat on the edge of the cliff overlooking the beach. They stared down at their beaten up jalopy, which had landed into an abandoned sandy dune, resting on its side with its tires spinning slowly to a lazy stop on their now bent up axles. Stacy passed the joint to Annie, who took in the fumes and...

Busy week. Been doing my transcription job, teaching, visiting the county fair, picking out a new bike to ride around town with, and watching Inside Out (which is fantastic and you should see it ASAP). And tomorrow, it's Wear My New 'Merica Tank Top And Eat Barbecued Stuff Day. So the United States is officially two hundred thirty-nine years old tomorrow, which is fairly young compared to a lot of countries. And while it's always attempted to be cutting-edge compared to said countries, there's a lot that's changed and a lot that still needs to change. Obviously, we had the landmark Supreme Court ruling that legalized same-sex marriage, but first of all, the fight is not over, and second of all, we were, what, the fifteenth or so first world country to actually legalize it? I mean, Mexico beat us to the punch, and that's a predominantly Catholic nation. And of course, there are all the issues of a dysfunctional Congress, extremist politicians, climate change de...

The Best of Times by Belinda Roddie Vanessa clocked Mark in the jaw with an actual clock.