My Cardboard Balcony

Green Flag by Belinda Roddie The green flag whistling on your doorstep, coated in debris - where the bricks crumbled and the walls caved in during Loma Prieta - I left it there for a little girl who stopped breathing beneath the angry stones that held her in a dry sarcophagus. Very dry. It soaked up potential tears. You can take it now, dust off the dust, let it hang from a banister, a quiet staircase. There, it can resemble grass in your newly grown garden, while the men in yellow hats give the beat of rebirth against your huddled doors.

"It's time for you to go on a quest!" barked the cloaked man to the girl dressed in light bronze armor, who crinkled her brow in bewilderment. "Erm...what quest?" "The quest..." the man let the words hover in the air like scattering dust, "...of greatness!" "...Uh," said the girl, "mind being a bit more specific than that?" "Oh, for the love of - it's a quest. You go on a quest. it's awesome. What more could you want?"