My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie Persephone was my first and only love. Before Hades carried her off, I waited for her every day under the same olive tree, hair braided and hands folded in front of me like fresh parchment. The skin is crinkled and weathered now. I have never married. Before Hades set his eyes on her, Persephone was as in love with me as I was in love with her. We held hands and danced in the never-ending greenery of the fields. We picked flowers and wove them into each other's hair and clothes. We were like silly schoolgirls, but the passion was real, and the touches we exchanged were warm. She was an extraordinary kisser. It was like drinking sparkling wine each time her lips met with mine. I thought that perhaps, Persephone's status as the Lord of the Underworld's wife was something she resented. But in the end, it wasn't. Ultimately, her marriage made her grow up into someone entirely different, and I was left with the nostalgia, naivety, and rosy cheeks and ...

Jerry and Tabitha had been going through a rough patch, after over seventeen years of marriage. Jerry was unhappy at his job, Tabitha couldn't stand staying at home, and their efforts at having children, for what seemed like ages, had been fruitless (pun intended. Thanks, Bible). So Tabitha had gone to visit her parents, and Jerry, much to my "surprise," was crashing at my pad, drinking my beers and playing my video games once he got home from another long shift at the grocery store.