My Cardboard Balcony

A Splinter In My Ear by Belinda Roddie A splinter in my ear caused me to lose my hearing in my left side, leaving me to, while talking to people, have to choose which rant I would spent time with listening. A bruise under my knee caused me to limp and stumble as I sweltered under lights of neon, the colors inverted, flipped across my vision, giving second sight. A cloud caught in my mouth deepened my voice and made me cry in somber baritone, and I felt should my tongue grow much less moist, my vocal cords would petrify like stone. So my body crumbled, needing splints to hold me up like a puppet fixed with glue.

The ancient artifact was glowing. Doctor Kessler rushed downstairs when she saw the blue and gold emanations. Locked inside its crystal shell, the innards of the thing swirled as if acid was churning in an animal's stomach. It did not glitter or gleam, instead attacking the dark space with tornados of color. Kessler's assistant came down to look as well two minutes after she had begun to probe at it.