My Cardboard Balcony

They Found A Shoe by Belinda Roddie They found a shoe, half-chewed, inside a man's stomach. They couldn't figure out how he had even shoved the damn thing in his mouth and down his throat. It was a mystery, but now they had to cut him open. It took the whole day, but they extracted the mess of a loafer and sewed him back up, the nurses towing the guy into his room while he was high as a kite on just enough drugs to tranquilize a mammoth. Later, they asked him what had inspired him to eat a shoe. He said he thought because it was leather, it'd taste like cow. He bit his tongue hard when the doc said, "Idiot."

"Well, I guess asking for a heartfelt apology was too much for him to handle," Maria scoffed as I handed her the martini glass. She watched me carefully as I wiped a spot of dampness off my uniform with a spare towel. "You can't expect much from him. Once a douchebag, always a douchebag." "Yeah, but I mean..." she sighed. "After dedicating two years to the betterment of his soul, you'd think somehow he'd walk off less of an asshole, not more."