My Cardboard Balcony

So I'm working on a brand new writing project and it's a miniseries for the web or TV and it's dramatic and stuff and it's greeeeeeeaaaaaaaat but then work is draining me and I have to figure out how to work from home for a few days because they cut the network I use in the computer lab because of stupid people and that's bleeeeeeeeeh but I'm done with work for the week and my sister's starting her brand new show and I get to watch it tomorrow and that makes me go yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay and I've just added a huge chunk of writing to my latest project and I got to talk to my girlfriend on Skype for a bit before getting to see her in two weeks for our second year anniversary that makes me all d'awwwwwwwwwww but now I have to finish up this introspection in two minutes before it's Saturday and submitting it late with an altered time wouldn't be good form and I'm pounding this out like a madwoman mentally going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

Smiles by Belinda Roddie She smiles when I stir beneath the blue sheets, The heavily checkered quilt that weighs down On my thoughts and feelings – she teases me With feigned kisses, caresses on my neck that don’t Feel quite there, and when I rise, with the blankets Slipping away like bright ocean waves, she watches Carefully, not cautiously, but very carefully Because, though she pretends dramatics and swoons Of utmost desire and affection and such antics, It would kill her to see me go. The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since November 24th, 2008.

The very tall cowboy loomed over the very short rancher, but the very short rancher had a far more intimidating scowl. They both stood at the counter in the Old West Saloon, drinking honey bourbon and spewing out profanities like hornets against a hive. They only stopped cussing and whooping when a quaint old man waddled by, taking a seat beside them. The very tall cowboy grunted at the bartender. “Old feller’s drink’s on us,” he grunted, pointing at his diminutive but assenting companion.