My Cardboard Balcony

The Seventeen Sergeants by Belinda Roddie The seventeen sergeants all lined up with the seventeen lieutenants in two rows, so that the major general could spit and spew his mantras in a vicious flow that never seemed to end. They were dismissed and congregated in the dark mess hall to eat their bowls of beans and drink the piss- colored beer in gray cans. But after all the men and women were done with their meals, the seventeenth lieutenant brought a jug of raspberry wine out. Two more played reels on fiddles, and the seventeenth sarge shrugged and decided to dance. It was a grand time for thirty-four soldiers to command.

"I dunno," murmured Lacey with a small smile. "I'm on the fence about this." "Yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. "Quite literally." Laughing, my best friend of seventeen years hopped off the white picket fence, gracefully landing on the toes of her feet, the canvas of her converses bending slightly. She exhaled and bowed to me. "I'm just saying, I'm not sure. Maybe we ought to go somewhere else. Ditch this party for something better." "Like what?" "I dunno. Anything else in this town?"