My Cardboard Balcony

A Plate of Cheese by Belinda Roddie A plate of cheese was what I had for lunch before savoring wine from a tall glass. My friends had abandoned me for some brunch at the local café, so I was left to fend for myself, raiding the worn down refrigerator for leftover Swiss, scraps of cheddar, dill jack, and other chunks of dairy delicacy. I cleaned up the platter quite nicely, using a fork to bring the last crumbs to my trembling lips, and when at last the deed was done, I flopped onto the couch and slept for a good hour or two. When my friends returned, they wondered why all the cheese was gone. "All mine," I purred.

"Well, I have to say, Mitch," my boss remarked, "I am impressed. You've certainly come a long way in your work since we first hired you." I smiled. Every step I had taken forward was indeed intentional. I wanted to succeed, and I wanted to get kudos. However, I could feel my grin melt from my face as my boss continued. "However," she added, "we still feel as if it would be best if you relocated to a different department."