My Cardboard Balcony

She Smashed A Glass by Belinda Roddie She smashed a glass over my head and dragged me to the living room, my throat gone dry from screaming so loudly. My pant leg snagged against the carpet as I tried to pry my foot away from her grip. This was not a temper tantrum by my niece - no, this was a full-out breakdown, a raging hot explosion of her mind. Not simply pissed off, the girl was a whirlwind of fury, but furious at what, I could not say. My husband saved my life just before she got a hold of the poker, dusted gray, from the mantel, and I sobbed in despair as she fled, pulling shards out of my hair.

After walking six miles from work back home, I wasn't exactly motivated to do anything. The defrosted steaks sat restlessly in the refrigerator, waiting to be marinated and cooked. The overflowing garbage can was desperate to be emptied. Even the television set practically screamed to be turned on. I didn't care. I found my way to the nearest couch, throw my limp body onto the cushions, and emitted a pitiful, low whining as I fell into a much-needed slumber.