My Cardboard Balcony

Catastrophic Cacophony by Belinda Roddie Caution! Catastrophic cocktails push lactose intolerant men toward a pristine circle of emasculated pinwheels where the colors all blend in and out and blue and bleed and white and windy drifting onward past a notion of disturbance in a window frosted with depictions of a lady in a bathtub, brushing all her teeth with a mustache plucked from the lip of her ex-husband. Tick tock. Tick tock. Pandora's winding a clock. Second hand's crying a ballad, minute hand's about to stop.

A random name generator, clicked on with a mouse covered in mustard from fingers that just ate a rattlesnake sausage. Not kidding. No joke. I find Remus Archibald Thunder. Thunder is a last name? You learn something new every day. The outline for my fantasy epic lies out in front of me like a dissected frog. The guts and entrails all spilling out in compact Times New Roman font. This whole process is going to end up killing me some day. Literally, not figuratively.