My Cardboard Balcony

We Drank Cinnamon by Belinda Roddie We drank cinnamon cider while we sang karaoke at the top of our lungs while the San Francisco night left its tang in our mouths and its frost against our tongues, the silver mikes shaking in our hot fists. I tried to stay steady, belting a tune or two (or three, or four), my voice high-pitched, barely intact below the white half moon, my ears ringing. It was quite a party - one that left me dizzy and full of life, the music shaking in my memory, reminding me of love, my future wife sleeping in our bed in our apartment, waiting for my return, energy spent.

Joshua scribbled all over Jessica's drawing with a magic marker, yet he did very well at acting shocked and stunned when accused of the act. Still, the teacher was very good at perceiving his lying, and thus he was sent to the corner table to think about what he had done. Jessica, of course, had to redraw the entire picture, but at least she still managed to get an A.