My Cardboard Balcony

Your Sparkly Shirt by Belinda Roddie Your sparkly shirt was simply all the rage at the student showcase last Saturday, and when you strutted across that big stage, you cheered me up with your little parade. You always seem to have the clothes I like but never could wear, given, well, my look and size. I simply could not do it right, that sassy appearance you never shook off. Let me be as sparkly as you one day, flaunting all my sequins to the crowd and tantalizing lovers. I am done with being frumpy while you shine out loud. Some day, I'll have a shirt like yours, which I will wear on display under the spotlight.

We blasted through the door and waved our blades around furiously. But what we saw wasn't an army, or even a gang of thugs. Five old ladies, squat and quiet, were wearing bowlers, smoking cigars, drinking whiskey, and playing cards in the den. One looked at us and coughed. "Wanna play?" she rasped.