My Cardboard Balcony

Not another good end of the week. Guess it's just the way life goes. You have your ups, and you have your downs. A lot of downs, actually. I had a pet care interview and it was awful. Embarrassing, in fact. The ad didn't say it was for an odd job. Then I was told I was not selected for an interview regarding the instructional aide job I applied for last week. Even better. Finally, the doctor said I'm dealing with something called eustachian tube failure, explaining why I have had chronic ear congestion and sinus pressure for almost a year now. It has been very difficult for me to get into the Christmas spirit this year. I just feel like a total downer at the moment. I'm losing a lot of optimism, and I blame most of it on the rude awakening I've received regarding what my life's going to be like for a while. I try to talk with people, especially my family and friends, but I think for some of them it's getting old fast. Meaning I'm left with a lot of...

Untitled by Belinda Roddie The bell clanged its five-minute warning as students giggled and shuffled their way back into the hallways, blurring into a swollen mass of crimsons, blacks, and grays. To many, it actually felt like a blessing to be inside a school that looked more like a Gothic fortress, the sun glaring through the stained glass windows as whatever cool air drifted down the corridors past the students as they hurried to class. It had been so horribly warm for March, as if the weather was trying to tempt each prim and proper teenager in that school to believe summer was coming sooner than they thought. Whatever was causing the heat was disorienting each student as his or her eyes fluttered from a textbook to gaze at the world outside. Gregory was skipping biology today like always. He didn't really care about photosynthesis or mitochondria. He sat in the courtyard instead, the warm zephyrs tousling his dark hour. He had taken off his uniform jacket and loosened his...

The telescope quivered in the wind of the Kentucky rainfall. Gloria hadn't bothered to cover it with a tarp to make sure its lens didn't frost over and its brass skeleton didn't rust and turn brown. Instead, she watched the stars from her bedroom window, forgetting about Leo's constant viewing of the cosmos from that device. It was like a leftover appendage of his that she preferred to see waste away.