My Cardboard Balcony

Omelet Burger by Belinda Roddie When ham and eggs just weren't enough to satisfy you anymore, you had to murder the cow and slide its innards between two baby birds who never got to see the light of day. The piglets were indifferent to their fate.

"Together again." I blew a smoke ring out of the left corner of my mouth. "Yep. Like every other year." We were watching the neighbors finally take down their Christmas lights, even though it was March. Seeing the neon rainbows being stripped from the tall evergreens in their front yard was a bit calming. You and I exchanged a cider bottle while we smoked pipes like old men. You smiled at me amid the smoke. "Can we do this every year always?" "Sure. Why the Hell not?"