My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie Cabbage is fine, but wheat is the real moneymaker. That's why I'm called... ...wait for it... the bread winner. This week's prompt was provided by Arden Roddie.

The monthly premium that my father paid for my mother’s insurance was gargantuan; I was amazed that he could afford it. He confided in me about it over martinis at the Dry Well in downtown Arkania, informing me that he was pulling from retirement funds. “She’s not going to live that much longer, far as I can tell,” he said with a loud sigh. “And if she’s not with me, then I don’t think I want to stay retired for long.”