My Cardboard Balcony

Too Fast! by Belinda Roddie "Too fast!" they shout. "You talk too fast!" "You drive too fast!" "You're just too fast at everything." I guess I'm just a fool who likes to thrive at moving close to the speed of lightning? I like to think I pace myself enough, and that I'm good behind the steering wheel, yet I know some people have had it rough, and so they take it slow. Me, I can feel when time passes by way too quickly, but I've always been a kid who "gets things done," and if that means I'm sometimes in a rush, that's fine. It doesn't mean that I'm the one who's not enjoying the day. Take your time, but me, I feel good. I feel in my prime.

When we were told the Juggernaut was in town, we locked the doors, latched the shutters, and stayed in our bedrooms for the night. We had all heard the stories, had all been taught the precautions. No dancing. No singing. No sudden movement. The Juggernaut would hear it all, and the Juggernaut would punish you for it. There was one neighbor, Fifae, who did not take on the same fear as we did. And so, when night fell, she stayed outside, perched on a stump, playing her wooden flute.