My Cardboard Balcony

The Boy is Ill by Belinda Roddie The boy is ill - can't you see? Let us fetch him brandy and a warm towel for his head. Provide him with a pillow and blanket so he can sleep comfortably in bed. His little sister can sit by his side and check on him from time to time should he feel pain or ask for something. We will try to visit him and keep him company. Where is his teddy bear? Its presence should help him dream good dreams as the fever breaks. Some good medicine and nourishing food will heal things up when at last he awakes. The boy is very ill, so we can see, and we can sense a quick recovery.

The backspace was covered in dust on his computer. "Delete" was "d------" amidst the gray. In all of his life, typing away at his scripts, stories, and poetry - he had never, ever deleted anything. The same went with typos, too. His poor editor had to go through pages upon pages of screwed up language and vocabulary, because the man refused to go back and edit anything he mistyped.