My Cardboard Balcony

Homecooked Symphony by Belinda Roddie Give me a spoon, and I'll feed you music by the mouthful, let you chew on each note and swallow the nuances of the melody, until your stomach is singing a happy tune to you while you slip into slumber.

"I'm a little concerned about the class, Zane." Zane looked up from their book in surprise. They were very busy planning the curricula out for the week. Their large feet, clad in bright green socks with sushi rolls stitched into the fabric, rested on the marble surface of the coffee table. "What's wrong with it?" asked Zane, a notable twinge of concern in their voice. "It's just...it lacks structure," I said, "like there's no organization."