My Cardboard Balcony

I taught a second grade class for five days in a row and am currently with my girlfriend. I think any introspection will just have to wait. Writer's Quotation of the Night: If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster. - Isaac Asimov Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Peacock by Belinda Roddie One gray morning, I look out my window to see a peacock – No, not a peacock – someone dressed like a peacock – A little boy, in fact, all bedecked in blues and greens And soft blacks – soft black! Even black is gentle Against him, a parade, a flourish of grandeur As he marches about the yard, feathers all on display – It is only when his red-faced father arrives ruffled Like the angry owl prepared to pluck apart the smaller bird That the color fades, the magnificent tail recedes As the peacock is a meek little boy again in the morning shadows The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since November 24th, 2008.

The chalk left a harsh green residue on Shelly's fingers as she scraped at the gray pavement, shoulders stiff and sore as she hunched over her work. To her right, street artists had all gathered to make their creations, their borders clearly drawn in stark, hostile white. Lifting her head for a split second, Shelly spotted Jerry drawing the remains of a horseman of death with red and gold.