My Cardboard Balcony

Nameless by Belinda Roddie I don't have a name by choice. None truly fit me. Not even Nemo feels appropriate. Don't call me anything. Don't address me. I am not here. I'm at a bar, drinking tequila, and pretending the world isn't on fire. This week's prompt was provided by a video call with friends.

Accurate by Belinda Roddie Maybe my mother-in-law is right. Maybe I am the goober.