My Cardboard Balcony

The Spirits Five by Belinda Roddie The spirits five looked down upon the earth, assessing each part of their protocol. The first spirit was valuing the worth of creatures, while the second counted all the trees and plants. The third was more concerned with oceans, rivers, the liquid of life that glistened blue. The fourth spirit's eyes burned as he recalled civilization's strife, tallying casualties per century and reminding the others of the cost of extinction. The fifth one, finally, kept her eyes closed, all weary dreaming lost to a single rose petal, a soft breath, one last "I love you" before meeting death.

The compliments that Helen was given toward the end of her shift left her absolutely glowing. She had not felt so fulfilled and so elated since her wedding, or even since the birth of her first child. She happily sashayed to the back counter, humming a made-up tune to herself as she scribbled one last order of the night down on a pad. "Someone's on Cloud Nine," one of the chefs laughed, watching as the waitress brushed a strand of gray hair from her forehead while she hummed a little bit louder.