My Cardboard Balcony

Whew! This has been a rather long month, but the end of March is here. Arden and I just got back from seeing Neil Gaiman (eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee) and getting to hear him read and answer questions. Seeing that Gaiman is one of my favorite authors, this was an absolute treat - and a late birthday present for the wifey! So I know that I teased you guys a little bit regarding some serious updates as to what's happening in my life - all good updates, definitely. Today, I can reveal one of those updates. Now, let me begin by saying that I absolutely love my parents, and one thing I always am grateful for is the fact that they taught me how to be independent both career-wise and financially. My mom and dad do not operate like a charity; yes, they've helped my siblings and me out in the past when things got tough, as parents are wont to do, but they never held our hands. My brother, sister, and I were able to overcome a lot of obstacles and work hard to get to where we are now: Stable j...

Junkyard Baby by Belinda Roddie She was built from scrap metal. But she could feel.

"You didn't look good up there." "I know." She ran a damp hand across her mouth. Her tongue felt swollen. "I was out of my element. I'm sorry." Her agent clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't be. You tried. Maybe you should just stick to podcasts and radio interviews for now." She agreed, though not with words. Beneath her, the red carpet seemed to churn like lava. The dispersing crowd was like a cluster of insects come to witness a perfect storm.

Strabismus by Belinda Roddie Strabismus plagued the professor's left eye and made it settle on a different scene than she saw from her right eye. She would try to joke about it, but the jokes were mean and so self-deprecating. I believed that she was beautiful, no matter what, and so I left her flowers in between my classes, my heart dropping to my gut at the thought of how she would then react to my gifts. Yes, I loved her, lazy eye and all, her gaze slightly crossed like a pact between two star-crossed lovers who would die for one another. I was lovesick, true, but what else can a nerdy student do?

"I just want every day to get a bit brighter," said Sherman with a twinkle in his eye. "You know what I mean? Just a little bit brighter." "You don't want that," grumbled Ivan from his nest of beanbag chairs. His curly hair poked out from between the cushions like spring. "Don't take me literally again," Sherman snapped. "I mean emotionally. I know that if every day gets brighter, it'll be too literally bright. C'mon."

A Small History by Belinda Roddie My future walks behind me; my past lies still ahead. The underbelly of Atlantis is exposed despite the rising sea waters. It is scraped raw and pink from thousands of years of exposure to salt and seaweed. I will sail to the underwater kingdom. I will towel off its shivering naked body with the sun wrapped up in a windy shawl. In the period between life and death, I shall dig the tunnel to the light deeper and wider, and shape the bones with my sharp hands, my angular hands, pointed like shovel blades as they pierce the inner cheeks of God's mouth. Accidentally, I rupture two canker sores, and Heaven is covered in yellow and white, thin membrane to keep the angels in. I am no time traveler by trade: I do not wander backward in my years. Instead, it's as if my childhood stories are reborn in the tales of my own children - even the bad ones, the ones that have thorns and scratch out the eyes of the prince as he aimles...

She was loud. She was proud. She was out and happy and may as well have bled rainbows if someone tried to cut her. She sat at the bar with the large windows so everyone could see her, sipping on a chocolate martini and wearing her newest red leather jacket. No, she wasn't looking for a lover. She just liked showing off. And she didn't bother anyone while doing it.