My Cardboard Balcony

Bathing In The Forbidden Lake by Belinda Roddie My mental timer goes off, and I am sweating. Hot, steamy, cold, subdued. I have no recollection of past nightmares, yet the good dreams are gone, too. Slowly, I lift myself from the basin and feel the silver clogging my ears. My eyes are clouded over - I can feel the murkiness, though I can see just fine. Endless rows of redwoods, bordering water that has only appeared for tonight. Grabbing my clothes, I yank them, stretch them, over my soggy body. There is no moon hanging over me like a target. I am dripping reds and golds despite the blues and greens around me. I am speechless. I let strings fly from the fabric. I am free.

"Is it really that simple?" whispered Jackie as I showed her the mac and cheese recipe. I smiled. "Yep!" I replied cheerily. "Just some hot water, some noodles, some milk and butter and cheese powder, and boom. Delectable dairy goodness." Jackie at first seemed raring to go, but then she wrinkled her nose. "What if I'm lactose intolerant?" she asked in that cute, concerned voice of hers. I laughed and ruffled my daughter's bouncy blonde curls. "Honey," I cooed to her, "you don't have to worry about that."