My Cardboard Balcony

Can't really be introspective tonight. Another long, work-filled week. Lots of editing on my novel. Reading to kids. Getting to know teachers. It's been nice. I'll have something more fruitful to say later. Or I'll at least be more creative and thought-provoking in my creative writing. Here's a quotation, at least. Writer's Quotation of the Night: When I state myself, as the representative of the verse, it does not mean me, but a supposed person. - Emily Dickinson Have a great night and great weekend, everyone.

Passenger's Side by Belinda Roddie “Leslie?” “What?” “Are we there yet?” “No, we’re not gonna be there for another half hour.” “Oh…hey, Leslie?” “ What?” “Are we there now?” “Has it been a half hour yet, Lily?” “Sorry…hey, Leslie?” “No, we’re not there yet!” “But I’m so bored!” “Find a way to entertain yourself, then. Listen to music or something.” “Okay. …‘ Since you’ve been gooooone…I can breathe for the first tiiiime…” “Lily!” “What?” “I said listen to music, not sing to it!” “What? You’re such a....I mean…ugh!” “At least I’m not a little brat.” “What?” “Nothing.” “What did you say?” “Nothing! Go back to your Kelly Clarkson or whatever you were listening to.” “Fine. …Dad’s going to be there, right?” “Are you seriously still talking?” “But is he gonna be there?” “Yeah. He’ll be there.” “What about Grandpa?” “Hmmm. I dunno.” “But Grandpa’s so cool! He can’t not be there!” “I didn’t say he wouldn’t be there. I said I di

Randy flexed the muscles in his arms. Then he flexed the muscles in his legs. Then, with great determination, he flexed every single individual muscle in his neck. I watched from a distance as he stepped over to the stack of dumbbells, sucking on a slurpee and narrowing my eyes. "Well," Anna murmured, "as long as he's not trying to flex the muscles in his a - " I shot her a warning glare. "Don't. Even. Say it."