My Cardboard Balcony

The Land Was Dry by Belinda Roddie The land was dry as she walked; not a drop of rain had fallen there for thirty years. The earth had once been fertile but had lost its moisture, as the sun had scorched and seared it. No food grew now, and hundreds, if not thousands, of people had left the small town in search of wetter, greener lands. The spot where her parents had met was dead and brown, the grass no longer sprouting, the flowers no longer blooming. She found the old home where almost every memory of hers from childhood had taken place. Now she'd roam on to the next town, still seeking to quench her thirst, her trauma, and nature's vengeance.

"I used to have a pet turtle," said Timmy, "but he died. So now I have a hamster." "Quite a change, huh?" asked his teacher. Mister Hammerstein. Timmy shrugged, chewing on a wad of peanut butter and banana. "I like both. One day, though, I want a snake. One that'll wrap around my shoulders like a big, squirmy scarf. And I could look all cool and scary, and maybe the grown-ups would respect me a little bit more."