My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "Nikolai did it." "Who?" Anton rolled his eyes. " Nikolai," he repeated. "You know how he is. Always getting into trouble." "I didn't do anything!" Nikolai screeched from the other room. "Sounds like something a guilty person would say!" retorted Anton. "Anton," their mother said, "you realize you are accusing your own brother of shooting the neighbor's dog." "Oh. I thought we were talking about the missing cookies." His mother raised an eyebrow. "Who said they were missing?" " Nikolai did it!" shrieked Anton as he ran outside and into the snow. This week's prompt was provided by myself, Arden Kilzer, and Bethany Kilzer, conceived during a walk on Christmas Day last year.

I brewed myself a pot of peppermint tea while I waited for Angela to return home. She had been away for three weeks now, and the sheer amount of loneliness I had endured was at last beginning to truly gnaw away at me. Even when I managed to get myself warm during the winter nights, I knew that, without Angie's arms around me, I was not destined for a peaceful sleep. As I sipped my tea, the door opened, and the wind chimes clanged from outside. When Angela stepped into the living room, she did not look the same.