My Cardboard Balcony

This Life I Lead by Belinda Roddie This life I lead, I know is temporary, though I'll admit, I wish it'd last for longer - each day a gift, each hour secondary, but still worth every minute. As the stronger of our short humanity wanes away, I keep my mental diary intact, so that my memory retains each day that I wish I was able to enact and repeat over and over again. I am afraid of Death - but Death is still biding its time, touching the window pane, but never moving to enforce its will. At least I know that, after this endeavor, I can pretend that I have lived forever.

Somehow, Ben didn't exactly feel safe, not even when he heard the bark of the guard dog right by his gate, the ridge on its back clearly raised as it stood watch. He knew this because he observed its movements from his bedroom window, using a pair of cheap black binoculars that he had a habit of wearing around his neck. His mansion was protected - but only for now.