My Cardboard Balcony

Feline Fine by Belinda Roddie Last I checked, the entire west side of my neighborhood had been turned into brown tabby cats who wandered the streets for abandoned tuna melts left in the dumpster beside the local sandwich shop They were so cute and Mr. and Mrs. Morrison let me scratch them behind their ears before I walked to work

As I stared into the void located just above the tall, black bookshelf in my living room, I had to wonder if beyond that little mental wormhole, there was a little seaside town I could visit. I wasn’t a fan of beaches, but I didn’t mind strolling along its shore, avoiding the water and the puddles of jellyfish who had unfortunately been sacrificed during their great voyage. I thought of sitting in a room in a tiny bed and breakfast, drinking tea – with you and only you to talk to.