My Cardboard Balcony

A Lovely Outing by Belinda Roddie Put on your dapper shoes, 'cause we're going to the Ferris wheel and rising to the top so we can touch the constellations. They'll feel like spider webs against our rough, callused fingers, still sore from digging in the earth and planting dreams that never take root. You saved up a lot of money just to buy those dapper shoes, and I got myself a bowtie with a hue to match the sunrise, a burst of orange and gold to rival the explosive size and color of the real thing in an autumn dawn. Maybe one day, we'll be able to ride the bumper cars, too, if we could scrounge up some extra silver from the corners of our shack. Father said to savor every moment under this wild canopy of stars, 'cause you and I are so small, and this roller coaster of a vacuum is so damn big.

"Hey, is that Sylvain?" No. It couldn't be. The timing was too perfect. Way too perfect. I stood frozen with my beer growing warm in my clammy hand. Sylvain walked over to us in a short red dress and a heavy chain of pearls around her neck. She smiled a scarlet smile. "Heya, tootsie roll pop," she crooned. "Miss me?" "You, maybe," Chester grinned, "but not that nickname."