My Cardboard Balcony

The Protagonist by Belinda Roddie She was an old, raggedy bitch, and I loved her. The tropes she carried on her back made her who she was, and yet she was never too much of a hardass to me. She was the star of her own imaginary movie, an unconventional hero in the plot. Her gray curls added shadow to her eyes filled with sparks. She breathed fire like a dragon - but she was my dragon. The first sentence of this poem comes courtesy of Noel Guscott. Thanks, man.

There was much to be done before the holidays - lights to hang up, presents to wrap, tasty sweets to consume. I had bought myself a box of candy canes to stick into mugs of hot chocolate for some friends of mine, and while sitting at the glowing fireplace, I realized that, for the first time in a long time, I was content. I wasn't overjoyed, ecstatic, or overly energetic - but I was content. And that was enough.