My Cardboard Balcony

I Met Her by Belinda Roddie I met her in a laboratory, her fingers gloved and her shoulders clothed in white. She held a petri dish in one hand, and a magnifier in the other. I was just an intern - I knew little to nothing about science or medicine. All I did was the errand work, and yet I could not take my eyes off her, the great scientist, the experimenter, the master of chemistry. One night, I thought I'd ask her out, but she said, "I don't date anyone. I am in love with my job, and with my studies." I was left alone, the genius having chilled me to the bone.

In just ten hours, Larry had used Samantha's toothbrush, made an enormous mess in the shower, eaten half of a box of cereal that was plainly designated not for him, and was now making a blanket fort in the middle of the living room where he could play his video games - using the TV that Samantha had wanted to watch her stories on, no less. It took all of her willpower not to throw something sharp and heavy at Larry's head.