My Cardboard Balcony

Fraudulent Charges by Belinda Roddie Devil tried to get my credit card canceled, sweeping through Tennessee, buying up all the guns and ammo that he could see, swiping bottles of whiskey with each swipe of plastic. But there was something in it for me, and when I came home, the guy was slouched on my couch, drinking straight from the bottle and watching TV. "Reruns," he told me, hiccuping once, before offering a Colt for me to holster. "Want to go shoot some birds?"

You told me you'd take me to the moon and back, but I didn't want to endure the cold endlessness of space. So we settled on ice cream sandwiches on Saturdays, walks in the park on Sundays, and cuddles under the covers on cold Monday nights. When you said you'd take me around the world, that seemed more digestible, yet the roars of airplanes silenced my spirit's need to travel, and so we built ourselves a nest in our small town, tucked ourselves into it, and barely stirred again.