My Cardboard Balcony

Still Going Strong by Belinda Roddie Five years of sweaty fingers slipping against a keyboard. Five years of laughs and musings, of bad days and regrets and hopes. Over two hundred fifty stories told, short and sweet or longer tapestries, and over a thousand poems to boot. A solid two hundred sixty-one solstices settling on the screen, and one hundred and three tales hugging ten words to their chests. Nearly two thousand wandering OneWords bubble up in this champagne I've poured for myself during my self-congratulatory anniversary. I mean, Hell, it's worth it. I'll sip the metaphorical carbonation and enjoy the sweetness. Five years, I've stood on my cardboard balcony and braved the winds and storms. No upgrade needed, and even when things change, this author will spill out lingual adventures whenever they get the urge to escape. Today, September 14th, 2016, marks the fifth anniversary of my first post on My Cardboard Balcony. Thank you to th...

I found a half-empty bottle of twenty-year-old scotch in the basement cabinet, and by the time I carried it back to the kitchen, my guests were arriving. Just two visitors: A woman no older than twenty, and a man no younger than eighty-five. They both were wearing blue flannel and jeans, the lady's curls kept short and bouncy while the man was so bald that you could almost see your reflection on the top of his head.