My Cardboard Balcony

I love my wife. I love her. She is the most amazing, compassionate, creative, and fun person I know. I love every part of her, physically and emotionally. Even the idiosyncrasies, or the habits, that drive me nuts, I love. I love how we can cook each other dinner and sing silly, improvised songs. I love how we can drink sake together and talk about anything - anything! I love the fact that she listens to my stories and encourages my passions, and I do my best to return the favor. I love that we can go to the gym together, and I feel like I have a buddy to help me get fit. I love how we can expose each other to different experiences - I'm going backpacking for the first time because of her! I love that she laughs at my jokes, even if they're not funny (hey, she said she'd laugh in her vows). I love that she collaborates with me artistically, even if she doesn't always dig my ideas, and helps me with my writing. I love her laugh, her smile, her goofy nature, the way

The Forbidden Letter by Belinda Roddie It was stamped. It was sealed. It said, "DON'T READ."

Three cheesy rolls all warming in the oven. Three cheesy rolls for a mother and her kids. One cup of wine for the mother in her easy chair. One cup of wine that her children try to steal. Mother then reminds them, "You can't drink this!" Mother says it's mother's milk for mothers, not for tots. Cheesy rolls eroding in the stomachs of the hungry. Cheesy rolls requiring lactose breakdown in the gut. Wine and cheese both roiling in the cauldron of the damned.