My Cardboard Balcony

In Love With The Stranger Living In My Mind by Belinda Roddie You are caught in the folds of my brain like a popcorn kernel lodged between my teeth. The more I try to kiss you away, the deeper you burrow into my psyche, a permanent yet fickle fixture beside the factory that brews up dreams while spewing smoke as dense and thick as my anxiety. You will not go away. Even when I am asleep, I feel you tugging on the sinews of my subconscience, a small piping voice urging me to stay awake, to get up and walk to the nearest corner, wave down a taxi, and soar north where I can make a new home for myself, with you. And only you, wedged within me, breathing my breath, pulsing with my blood, bloated with my awkward and irrational fantasies.

The duct's opening was narrow, but with considerable effort, I managed to squeeze through to the other side of the dock. The water was cold against my ankles and bitter on my tongue, as I attempted to snake across the damp boards as the waves continually struck me from behind and drenched me. The entire time, I waited for footsteps that were never heard. I sensed no sign of life, and that meant, most likely, I had thrown the bandits off my scent.