My Cardboard Balcony

I have an idea for my third novel. It's muddled, but it's got a premise. It requires some surrealist elements, but it can be grounded in realistic emotion. It's crazy, but it's workable. And it actually did come to me in a dream. Yes, I dreamed this plot. This is going to be far different than either of the novels I've already completed. And yet, at the same time, it has roots. I'll let you few readers know more details as I begin to write. Wish me luck.

False Prophet  by Belinda Roddie Let me be your false prophet Let me walk across your swimming pool Let me sleep on your couch and drink your wine And whisper your fate into your ear each night Let me be your false prophet Let me promise you bread with milk and honey And sugar by the spoonful Let me reenact each sinner’s sin And bring miracles to life in front of your friends Let me eat your fruits of labor, scour your family albums, Read your golden bible to your children in foreign tongues In languages they cannot understand Let me drive out all your demons and make them dance On the table in your living room Let me be your very own false prophet Until your savior turns on you The work you see here was written in the fall of 2009. It was last edited in December of the same year.

Due to my being  in Cazadero with no internets, I could not put up a OneWord for Friday. Not to worry, though - Whims of the Time Traveler and Introspection are incoming.