My Cardboard Balcony

Chilly Dynamics by Belinda Roddie Look at all my worries, darling, hung up like lights for all to see. They blink like blue and green eyes through frost and mist that paints the night sky white. Look at all my worries, darling. Cover them with tinsel and put them on your sweet, little Christmas tree. They'll provoke plenty of conversations over egg nog and gingerbread cookies. Let me sleep until noon, my sunshine. It's too cold for me to function any earlier. Work is slow during the holidays, and the sleigh bells ringing outside give me an awful headache. Let me sleep until noon, my sunshine, and wake me when the smell of cider rises from the pot like a kiss that's warmer and fresher than the ones you've stuck on me like bows on poorly wrapped presents just in time for Christmas Eve. Listen to my stories, sweetheart, for they were written just for you. Even the reindeer on the rooftop will stop to hear the twist ending. Listen to my stories, s

Harley submitted their letter of resignation shortly after they finished up the last report of the quarter, and after that, it was all packing up and walking out from there. As they sauntered to the elevator - the standard cardboard box tucked under their arm, the black necktie somewhat loosened against the unbuttoned collar of their french cuff shirt - they were greeted by incredulous glances from colleagues who did not ever imagine that the crème de la crème of the office guard would be leaving.