My Cardboard Balcony

From The White Corner by Belinda Roddie From the white corner comes a mean green left hook, tearing up the sinews holding together a floating rib. Tell me, once the bone snaps, will you have your way with me, or will you enjoy the sound of silence as I refuse to shriek or be shrill in any way? I am built like a god, and you shall fear me one way or another, because in your white corner, there is the absence of shadow to conceal you, and when I spill blood, there will be a very distinct, unapologetic rorschach of red.

"So." Chad pursed his lips. "You make collages." "Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I love 'em." "Collages of what?" Grey rubbed the scruff on his chin. "Photographs, mostly. Nature stuff I've taken pictures of. I sometimes frame my work and try to sell it." "Is it any good?" asked Chad, already knowing it was a stupid question when he opened his mouth. Grey laughed. "Not exactly my call to say, dude."