My Cardboard Balcony

At four am, I lost my temper waiting for a call from my fiancé 'cause he was still drinking at a party filled with horny girls, and I was hopeless for some answers 'cause he said he would return two hours ago. And he's still not home. I tried to call him, but his phone just went to static with his warbling voice all growing icy in the winter winds around him, saying, "This is Charlie, leave a message, I'll get back to you." That's bullshit. So I punched a pillow and sat grumpy on the couch until I crashed.

by Belinda Roddie Look at the pretty stars. They are pretty. They sparkle and they tell lots of stories. Daddy says if you look hard enough, they make shapes. I see them. One looks like a kite, but Daddy tells me I'm not looking hard enough. He says the diamond is a man named Orion. But he doesn't look like a man to me. Daddy tries to make me see his sword and his armor, but I don't see it. I just see lots of pretty dots making triangles and squares. One looks like a big pot. Daddy calls it the Big Dipper. Mommy is one of the stars. Daddy told me so. He told me she became a star after she left one day. The last time I saw her, she was in a white room, lying in a white bed with white sheets. There were lots of pretty flowers around her. Red and purple and white flowers. They looked like little fireworks in jars. Daddy gave Mommy a big bouquet. Now she's up in the big blue sky. And she's really really pretty. When you look at the stars, I hope you can find he...

The most exquisite suits were on display in the great metropolis of Rathbone, and all the most noble suitors for the duchess's daughter were sifting through the aisles for the best pick. Balzac de Grazi, the richest of the barons, was gazing at a bright red display, while a green embroidered black tailcoat caught the eye of Reginald Alviera.

I taught a second grade class for five days in a row and am currently with my girlfriend. I think any introspection will just have to wait. Writer's Quotation of the Night: If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster. - Isaac Asimov Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Peacock by Belinda Roddie One gray morning, I look out my window to see a peacock – No, not a peacock – someone dressed like a peacock – A little boy, in fact, all bedecked in blues and greens And soft blacks – soft black! Even black is gentle Against him, a parade, a flourish of grandeur As he marches about the yard, feathers all on display – It is only when his red-faced father arrives ruffled Like the angry owl prepared to pluck apart the smaller bird That the color fades, the magnificent tail recedes As the peacock is a meek little boy again in the morning shadows The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since November 24th, 2008.

The chalk left a harsh green residue on Shelly's fingers as she scraped at the gray pavement, shoulders stiff and sore as she hunched over her work. To her right, street artists had all gathered to make their creations, their borders clearly drawn in stark, hostile white. Lifting her head for a split second, Shelly spotted Jerry drawing the remains of a horseman of death with red and gold.

My Brother Had Gold Teeth by Belinda Roddie My brother had gold teeth that conducted electricity every time he talked. My brother had a voice that obstructed the wind in every alley where he walked. My brother had eyes that belonged to owls, the glowing judgment behind spectacles - the kind of color in the sky when howls of thunder trumpet all your obstacles. My brother had a mind that could not read the pages of romance I'd written for the darling of my life. He could not see why it was a princess whom I adored. My brother had a heart locked in a box, with no door for a queer sister to knock.