My Cardboard Balcony

I'll Carry You by Belinda Roddie I'll carry you when your feet are too sore for you to walk any further along this barren, endless, and lonely seashore. I'll take where you can hear the sea's song as the wind ruffles the foam and the salt along the waves. We'll count each grain of sand until we get too bored with it. We'll waltz when your feet don't hurt so much. You'll laugh, and I'll do my best bow when the dance has stopped. Back to the car we'll go, and on the way, I'll stoop to pick up each seashell you dropped and collect them, all of them white and gray and mollusk black. Then, when the hill is steep, I'll carry you again while you're asleep.

He approached me from behind, and it was too late for me to react when his arms folded across my chest like taut, browned ropes. In the next moment, I heard a crack, like someone breaking a car window, and a short yelp. I felt my body lurch forward, free from my potential captor, as the man wound up lying on his back with his hand over his now obviously broken nose.