My Cardboard Balcony

Helium by Belinda Roddie All the balloons floated away in a stream of molten lava flight. And merry-go-rounds became paralyzed in dying starlight. There was a speck of something hot on the side of the moon's bulbous cheek. It had been chewing up the cosmic scenery, sparks flying in between bites. The carnival had come to town, but few had bothered to attend. I was left behind in the funnel cake line when your shift had reached its end. You wore your flannel jacket when you took me to where the fireworks turned into constellations. There, I traced a belt of my own. You cinched it for me, hands on my waist, kissing me and making me want to float away.

"Behold!" screeched Mallory. "The evil fiery pit of doooom!" She was, of course, referring to the red blanket that she had bunched up on the living room floor, which she waved her wand over. Oliver, her brother, was shaking with dramatic trepidation. He pushed his plastic crown aside, frowned, and waved a finger at Mallory. "You may try to stop me, sorceress," he cried, fully in character, "but you will not stop me from saving the prince!"