My Cardboard Balcony

I Brought A Slice by Belinda Roddie I brought a slice of pie to the old priest who lived two blocks away in the condo covered in angry ivy. Hey, at least he could enjoy the fruit and flaky dough of his favorite pastry. He accepted the gift graciously and invited me in for some grape juice and some homemade bread, which I drank and devoured quite eagerly. The old priest took his time eating his pie, and when he was finished, the cherry glaze lingered on his fingers. His working eye was twinkling now, and he gave me a gaze of warmth that matched his grin. 'Twas a good Pi Day, and he ended it in such a sweet way.

Dennis practically swan dove into the lake, and when he emerged, he was carrying a long-stemmed flower clenched between his teeth. We didn't know what to make of it. His hair shone like silver in the sparse morning light, and he clambered onto the rocky shore, dropping the plant and panting like a dog. "Where the hell did you get that flower?" Dennis grinned. "The mermaid gave it to me!" His mother laughed. His father did not.