My Cardboard Balcony

My Mother's Favorite Number by Belinda Roddie My mother's favorite number is, in fact, twenty-four. It's her birthday in July - the hours in a day, all nicely packed around the face of a clock. And now, I, as well as my sister, have reached the age that lies in my mother's favor. Perhaps, now that my twin and I have reached this stage in our lives, all the various mishaps we have will dwindle. Adulthood at last will catch up with us, whether we like it or not. Once eight o'clock AM has passed, it all will be official. Just a bit closer to twenty-five, an age that's nice, but my mom's favorite number will suffice.

The entire hall was adorned with holly and ivy so that it truly felt like a madrigal feast. I felt especially comfortable in my doublet and muffin hat, and my makeshift Renaissance-style shoes made only a small scuffing noise as I darted about the room, observing all the decorations and prepared food. I stepped up to a table with goblets of wassail before being stopped by my biology teacher. "Amy?" "Hi, Mrs. Henderson!" I smiled.