My Cardboard Balcony

Moving Day by Belinda Roddie The moving truck came roaring in - it bellowed and it roared. It bellowed like an animal I'd never heard before. The crying children laughed a lot, and the laughing children cried. They carried away boxes and told all their friends goodbye. The mother kissed the father, and the father kissed the mother. The brothers hugged their sisters and the sisters hugged their brothers. And me, I stood outside my door and watched the family leave, the moving truck roaring behind them - really quite a scene.

The old red Jeep Wrangler had been abandoned in front of our cabin for over fourteen years now. It sat on only three wheels, the fourth of which had been wrecked beyond recognition, and browning moss grew around its haggard alloy frame and steering wheel. It had seen many fun joyrides when my grandfather was still alive; now, it merely sat like a worn down metal skeleton, refusing to decompose.