My Cardboard Balcony

Mundane Day in Hell by Belinda Roddie The parking ticket on my windshield was written in ancient runes. I heard archaic enchantments uttered by the barista at the coffee shop. And once the peppermint hot chocolate was dripping down my chin, I saw fire falling with the snow, and everyone spoke in tongues

Molly wanted to watch every single sunset with Nasreen. That was part of the routine. If Nasreen was going to stay with her, then a little bit of sentimentality was warranted. The two of them sat on the hillside overlooking Little Anthem, watching as flecks of gold kissed the black grasses on the horizon. Nasreen took Molly's hand. "Your fingers are cold, miss," she commented. Molly said nothing. She breathed in slowly, embracing the warmth of Nasreen's skin.