My Cardboard Balcony

Hello, everyone. We've made it through a full week of March. My Yearbook class has one more deadline to go. My English students are waist-deep into Lord of the Flies now, and I'm pretty sure half of them either don't like it or haven't actually read it. I actually think I'm coming down with a cold. It's funny - in my entire first year of teaching at my new high school, I've never called in sick. Come to think of it, I don't think I ever called in sick at Fusion Academy, either. Sure, I took vacations and needed days off, but they were requested way in advance, and I had time to write sub notes. But I've never called in sick the day of when it comes to a school job. I'm not sure whether I should chalk it up to good health or work ethics or both. I think one part about being a teacher for me is being present. I've always liked consistency in my work, both as an educator and a writer. But I guess I also like consistency in my life. Consisten...

Fatal Joke by Belinda Roddie Knock, knock. Who's there? Bubonic plague. Alas! Now fall down.

Nine days into March, and only three days of new OneWord prompts. Sigh.

I Called My Dog by Belinda Roddie I called my dog "The Floof," plain and simple, though my mother called her "Floofster" instead, and my father called her "Lady Fluff." Well, I thought "The Floof" sounded better when said aloud, and truly, what a floof she was. Her white fur shrouded her like a thick shawl, her eyes beaming between the tufts of fuzz. When on her back, she looked just like a ball, rolled up and grunting, her belly exposed so we could rub it. She was pretty big, and if she got bored around me, her nose would wind up pressed against me. I, a twig, looked so tiny and frail beside my pooch: The Great and Beautiful, Majestic Floof.

I hope you like being with a comedian, 'cause I'm all about the self-deprecating humor. Seriously, I'm brimming with it - kind of like a fat glass brimming with really cheap, terrible beer. I'll lob every single lousy joke right between your eyes, give you barely any time to fake laugh at the delivery before I churn some other gag up from the hot cauldron of my gut. I ought to be touring the States right now; as much as I'm a sloppy riot, I'm probably way funnier than half the performers out there.

Don't Choke by Belinda Roddie Keep breathing, dear - it's only air. It only burns your body slowly from the inside, keeping you alive while ensuring your slow descent into the endless pit beneath you. If your heart beats ceaselessly, fret not - it's just reminding you of how much more percussion you have to play. And how much you love her. And how much you'd die for her. And how little you feel like you have to lose. But it's important to keep breathing around her. Keep breathing before she sucks the wind out of your mouth with her mouth. There's only so much air to spare these days - you'd best learn how to share.

OneWord!