My Cardboard Balcony

Surviving World War III by Belinda Roddie Sometimes I wish I could withstand an atomic bomb with you. We'd drink the radiation like wine and not feel an ounce of pain. We'd gain superpowers just like in the comic books and learn how to resurrect the dead. We'd rebuild what was destroyed and add gold leaf to boot - of course, if there's any gold leaf left in this scarred world after the sound and the fury subsides.

"It's dark in here." "Can't see a bloody thing." "Who's got the torch?" I passed it to her. She flicked it on, and instantly, the room was filled with orange light. Nearby, we would see a few chairs, a couch, a grandfather clock. We didn't know where the creaking was coming from? The walls? The door we had opened up to get in? "Damn," I muttered, shrugging at the rest of the group, "doesn't seem like any ghosts are here."