My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "You know, any food can be green if you wait long enough." "I...don't think that's how it works." "No, really! Just let 'em get moldy, et voilà! Green food." "Okay. First of all, most mold isn't green on food. It's gray, and brown, and black..." "Ick. No fun. Definitely not festive." "And second of all, if our food turned green, we wouldn't eat it." "I know." "We'd throw it the fuck away." "I know, dude! I'm just saying - if you want more green for St. Patrick's Day, you know what to do." "I kiiiiiind of get the feeling that green food coloring would be more efficient." "And who forgot to get green food coloring at the store? Hmmm?" "...You did." "...No." "You forgot to get green food coloring." " No." "I specifically sent you off to the grocery sto...

"You ever think we'll get out of this alive?" asked Brach, as he passed me a bottle of something purple and strong. I laughed. "Some soldiers might call that wishful thinking, comrade." I drank from the bottle and tasted a mixture of plums and burning. And not like a delicious plum pudding lit on fire, either. No, just burning. "I figured," sighed Brach. He leaned against the wall now, snapping and unsnapping the clips on his utility belt.