My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "I am the queen of this carpet square!" "You sure are." "Aaron." "Well, are you or are you not a queen?" "Just bring me my tiara already! "Why that particular carpet square, though?" "What?" "I said, why that carpet square? I mean, you could not have picked a dirtier spot." "Well, it's a good square. It's soft." "John." "And cozy." "John." "And I can sleep in and dream happy dreams and be a happy little queen kitten." "John." "Just like Zelda." "Yeah, about that...Zelda pissed there earlier, dude." "..." "Yeah, I'm serious. Just outright pissed there. Guess she decided the litter box was her nemesis for the day. "..." "So I am really surprised you did not smell the urine from a mile away before you sat down on it and christene...

We had adapted to the hot bayou in a matter of weeks. We wore boots with soles as thick as tire rubber so we could navigate the deep, sticky swamps more easily. When we fished, we used large bait and prepared ourselves to wrestle with monsters. At night, when the heat didn't cease, we aimed our tent flaps to the closest, smallest breeze, just so the fluttering of canvas cooled us down enough so we could finally go to sleep.