My Cardboard Balcony

One by one, the gang filed into the space, and one by one, they scanned the room. No one seemed to be openly carrying weapons, but that didn't mean they weren't simply concealed. The pool tables were all taken, as well as every stool at the bar. But that didn't matter to these gals. One of them brushed a curl aside before marching up the counter and shoving a scrawny white bastard out of the way.

by Belinda Roddie Vikings? Honey, we're Viqueens. Sovereigns of the sea, comparable only to the Amazons and the Titanias. Master pillagers and battlers and aggressors. We scour the lands for ore and riches. The Vikings never held a candle to our raging fire. We are strong, badass women. We pierce enemies' hearts before we even throw our spears. We conquer kingdoms before we even reach the drawbridge. We kiss our wenches first and ask them questions later. And don't you forget it. This week's prompt was provided by Daniel Bulone.

Everything seemed so mismatched. Even my allegedly matching socks didn't appear to be identical. It was like the color was off, or the length, or the accents. I put on my shoes and they seemed so different in size. I pulled on a coat and, despite the fact that it was black on a black T-shirt, the slight deviation in shade drove me mad. I had half a mind to throw myself back into bed and give up, only to start debating whether or not the sheet set was out of whack, too.

Working my teaching job. Got a new bike to ride around town on. Still a bookseller. Writing and editing projects either long finished or still in progress. Definitely getting close to finishing up the transcription gig I got. I hate spending so much money. Dropped three hundred bucks this week alone on just car services and registration renewal. Can't wait to actually have more disposable income. I'm tired. Big day tomorrow. G'night, everyone.

Death Waltz by Belinda Roddie Take my hand, dance with me, and watch me burn.

Say an assassin enters a crowded building. She doesn't use the vent to get to the prime office. She doesn't dress up as some sort of sassy, sexy intern who somehow achieves access to the IT department or the computer database. Instead, she plants herself into the crowd with ease and follows where it goes. Maybe it'll take her up the stairs, or into the elevator. Maybe she'll wind up in the parking garage. Whatever the case, once her target lies in her site, she will be hidden, and as the crowd disperses, she will disappear with them.

I Woke Up by Belinda Roddie I woke up to a long and plaintive meow from the next door neighbor's big, surly cat, which seemed to want attention here and now without being chased by a baseball bat. I knew this grumpy tabby on the prowl was looking for some petting and some food, but when I came close, all it did was growl; its grouchy looks mimicked its rotten mood, though as it hopped inside on its bean-toes, it found my roommate and started to lick her face while she was attempting repose. "What the Hell?" she cried. "Man, that cat's a dick!" But instead of a meow, the cat said, "Herp," a hiccuping sound, while I just said, "Derp." I recollected myself with some grass to smoke, 'cause let me tell you, I'm no prude - I'm used to my roommate being too crass and to my friends being usually crude. The cat then locked its sights on a poor bird which rested on the pavement by a plum that had fallen from the ...