My Cardboard Balcony

Your Fingers Pinched by Belinda Roddie Your fingers pinched the skin between my eyes and held it tightly 'til they made a dent on the bridge of my nose. You heard my cries for you to stop, but you had never meant to treat me gently or kindly. You bit your lip, hungry to tear away my pride in chunks, your once dark visage lit with a hideous ecstasy. You lied to me, you stole from me, you caused me pain both physical and mental. You denied it, but I have the scars here that explain how much of your sick soul you cannot hide from anyone. I pulled your hand away at last, and I hoped you would leave some day.

One student was writing nonfiction in a journal; another was planning a science fiction thriller. Two worked together on a fantasy escapade with dragons and dwarves galore - and swords! And spells! Lots of spells. Even the student with the lowest grade was scribbling away in her notebook, as ideas for a mystery novel bloomed on the paper like graphite flowers.