My Cardboard Balcony

You ever had one of those mixed bag weeks? Like on Monday, everything seems like you've got it down pat, but the talking in the class is incessant... ...and then on Tuesday, you get certified in CPR and First Aid but have to hear medical conspiracies from the expert... ...Wednesday strikes you in the face when you produce creative scripts for the kids to read and they can't quite read sight words, reminding you of how difficult it is... ...Thursday works out better for progress, but a few little things get in the way... ...and then Friday is like a sugar high - everything clicks, the kids are getting it, we're writing poetry, we're having fun - and then you lose everything you have work document-related (as well as ten children's books you planned to read to the girls, three of which being from a school library which you may have to replace, as well as every single back-up lesson template and timesheet) when you misplace your backpack on a bus or in fron...

The Lost Love Story by Belinda Roddie We stood inches apart, warm breath mingling with warm breath. Our eyes watered from the sting of the sun that lingered just above our heads, while the chorus of footsteps all around us revealed hidden passerby beyond the building that we concealed ourselves behind. Sally spoke in a whisper, her words drifting in a daring exhalation. “You have no idea,” she said to me, “how much I wish you were a man.” “Why’s that?” I asked. “Because I want to do this.” Then she kissed me, hard, on the mouth. My chest grew tight, the air constricted in my windpipe. I tried to kiss her back, but she was already halfway across the nearest street leading into the trees. # That scene ended Chapter 18 of my semi-autobiographical novel. What I didn’t know was that “Sally,” in the same year, would publish a memoir with her own version of the exact same moment from fifteen years before. Her r...

A hundred varieties of the same emotion in my riddled cheese brain, served up in piping hot bread bowls with the same salty result. So much salt. No pepper. Sprinkled residue that stung my eyes so badly that I had to squeeze them to get all the brine out. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. I had told myself to be the best I could be. And instead, I got a hundred degrees of bullshit.