My Cardboard Balcony

Heartless? by Belinda Roddie   A cruel young woman once told me, "I know a man who is so heartless." And curious, I asked, "Why?" "Well, for starters, he's got a wife and three children who he loves to death." "I see. And?" "He works a job he doesn't like so he can get the bills paid and he can see his kids on the weekends." I was confused. "I'm sorry, but - " "And he reads them a bedtime story every night, and he kisses them on the heads and says, 'I'll always be watching.' And then he does the same to his wife." "Reads her a bedtime story?" "No, but he kisses her and hugs her and says, 'I love you.' And she says, 'I love you, too.'" My brow was creased and my tongue felt funny in my mouth. I said, "But that all sounds wonderful! How in the Hell is he heartless?" "Well," she says, "H

I warned him not to go back to his mother. She had been collecting things. Sharp things. Like corkscrews and scissors and those little pocket knives you can latch onto a key chain. Even shards of glass. I found one piece of a bottle that used to hold 2001 Riesling. At first, I thought the red was alcohol. The smell, however, told me otherwise.