My Cardboard Balcony

Steven was not like the other boys at his school - he had three arms and six eyes. Gregory was pretty strange, too - he spoke Martian instead of English. Alexander and Tobias were twins that could read other people's minds. There was also Benjamin, who ate crayons for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and was healthy as a horse. Vincent, specifically, could smell colors. And Oliver wasn't like the others, either, because he was transgender. Somehow, he was the weird one in Mrs. Geraldine's class. Huh. This week's prompt was provided by Christopher Morton.

NOTE: Because of a website error, I was unable to post on OneWord.com for two days. However, it appears that the prompt was still updated both on Saturday and Sunday, even though no one could access them or respond to them. So I set a sixty second timer for myself and completed both prompts for my blog, even though my posts will not show up on the OneWord website. This is the Saturday OneWord. If only she hadn't continued like that. If only she hadn't pressed on or insisted. Now everyone had finally turned their back, and they wouldn't listen even though she persisted. Why was she so intent on egging on everyone with at least half of a conscience? She's never known when to ever shut up, so now she has to deal with the consequences.

So. I learned a lot during this particularly rough week of work. I learned that not being trusted makes your job a lot harder. I learned that the way I approach my students' work is integral to how hard they work. I learned that Julius Caesar, which in my opinion is one of Shakespeare's easier plays to understand, is still pretty inaccessible to a lot of sophomores. I learned that I can't be too lax. But I also learned that I can't be too strict. I learned that, based on where I am in my job right now, I do not have the independence or the leeway to make my own decisions without outside approval. And that's okay. I'm learning to accept that. I learned that sometimes, my expectations for students are very different from that of their parents', and that it's intriguing to see other teachers' strategies with the same individual I might be struggling to reach. I learned that sometimes, a blemish on your face is just that - a blemish. Most...

Now Who's In Charge? by Belinda Roddie I had the authority. But he had the gatling gun.

"Hey." "Hey." She blinked slowly at me. "You seem so...different from what you were before." I shrugged. My shoulders felt so small in my father's leather jacket. "Well, I'm definitely different," I replied. "I guess a lot of things changed." "For the better?" "Yeah," I said, smiling. "For the better." She stepped toward me then, her breath rising in small white bursts in the cold autumn air.

The Three Counties Of Delaware by Belinda Roddie The three counties of Delaware were Kent, New Castle, and Sussex - and my father lived in them all. His first ten years were spent in Georgetown, and he walked along the bay in Lewes, that old town. His mother drank sweet tea, and his uncle fished. Then he stayed in Kent - in Dover - his brother to thank, for he went to Wesley while my dad paid his way to New Castle, to Wilmington. He played for the Blue Rocks for a few years, but after taking his car for a spin, he broke his arm and ended his career. But Delaware's a distant memory: my dad now runs a bar in Tennessee.

I'm not exactly sure what to make of her now. This version of her is different. This version of her is new. This version of her has capabilities that can't be reached by anyone simply constructed from link upon link of carbon, chains wrapped around wrists and ankles, holding us down from progress. This version of her can hold her breath underwater for hours - can run faster and longer than any man or beast - can make love to me throughout the night, while I gasp and bellow for air that I can barely digest.