My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "The galapagos raptor is the deadliest of raptors, but it can always be subdued by a large dose of peanut butter." "..." "Did you know that, Aaron?" "...When, and how much?" "Huh?" "Drinking." "You know, surprisingly, I haven't had that much." "...Seriously?" "Yeah. Just a couple beers, maybe two shots of spiced rum, but that's really it." "...I don't believe you." "No, I'm serious! Check the recycling box in the kitchen." "I swear, John, if you're lying..." "I'm not!" "But..." "Aaron, I am stringing together coherent sentences right now. Doesn't that tell you I'm just a little bit tipsy?" "...Fine. I'll check." "Okay, and I'll wait." "..." "..." "..." "..." "..." ...

The festival? The festival! It was happening all over again. The streamers dangling from each window, the heavenly smell of dishes from all over town. Francis's baked fish, Granny Storm's pies, and of course, Mister Fox's fresh meats, cheeses, and soups. And the boys were at it again, dancing and cavorting about in their fancy red jackets and new brown shoes. I watched them with a cup of ale and felt the familiar smile creep across my lips again.