My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "Oops, that last one should have had a period at the end." " That last what?" "Sentence." "Sorry, which one?" I pointed to it with my pen. Emily scrutinized the scribbled line cautiously, the fingers of her right hand drumming out an awkward rhythm on her left forearm. "Okay," she muttered. "Cool." I sighed and rolled over on my side on the bed. Emily stayed sitting on the floor, watching me as I pretty much gave up on my essay brainstorming session. The assignment was due in two days, and try as I might, I had nothing significant to add to the prompt. What was the prompt, one might ask? Nothing like a good, old-fashioned kick to the brain from Mister Tyrone, who thought that getting his students to tell personal anecdotes was a sure-fire way to inspire them to become the new heroes of the jaded growing generations. Or at least get them to try to cure cancer; the growth behind his ear that h

It was possible to climb that titanium ladder into the stars, suited up in a tailcoat of steel, plasma, and lifetime supplies of oxygen. Yes, it was possible. The council had deemed it so, allowing Rectra Sansky to become the first humanoid to ever individually travel space without the need for a vessel. Food nourishment was not a requirement; Rectra's system had been adjusted for that.