My Cardboard Balcony

The Caramel-Flavored Vodka by Belinda Roddie The caramel-flavored vodka took up space within the cabinet because no one liked to drink it. Josh thought about giving the still closed bottle to a good friend, but that once enthusiast of hard liquor had completely weaned off the booze, claiming a Godly epiphany. Josh and his buddies preferred hard cider, maybe iced whiskey, or a strong Amaretto Sour, but the cheap brand of vodka just wasn't for them. Then one day, Josh's cousin saw the bottle and lit up like he had seen the liquid Messiah. "Take it," they said, "and drink it 'til you're sick and stuck in bed."

When I say that Gregory got a lot of clout, I didn't mean the informal definition that was most common among American households. I was more referring to the fact that I was the one to give him a clout. You know, like a blow to the head with something heavy. The heavy thing was the back of my very large hand against the spot of his temples right above the nape of his neck. He dropped like a stone. Oh, and I have a clout of my own, too. It's an arrow target. I'm an archer.