My Cardboard Balcony

Derelict, Tuxedo Man by Belinda Roddie He practically lives in the shoddy jacket. His belly, once hanging past his leather belt, is now shriveled and lifeless, without so much as a scrawny steak on a stick for him. He steals graham crackers from the closest gas station, but he can never grab the marshmallows, and besides, if he heats those up, the sugar stains his vest something awful. You're a derelict, tuxedo man. The rose in your lapel is three years left of romantic. Its petals wilted long ago. And so did your smile.

Albert took delight in the sweet comforts of the bakery. He ate all the cannoli once in just a single day, and while usually the owner would be somewhat irritated by that, Albert paid him one buck extra for each sweet he ate. It was clear that the fifty-something man was an excellent addition to the list of patrons that the bakery still had. It had almost gone out of business before.

Staring out the window was known to be stereotypically wistful, so Otto Mann tried not to do it. His sister, Sofia, listened to her MP3 player that pounded out Taylor Swift so loudly that the twang lingered in her brother's poor ears. In the front of the SUV, Otto's father hummed a jingle from the latest commercial of his favorite fast food restaurant - Harvey's Ham Haven - and his mother reapplied lipstick.

by Belinda Roddie He didn't quite catch what was off about the room until he realized that all of the picture frames were turned around. Then again, even if he did turn them around, there'd be no photographs in them at all. Not that the master of the house didn't like to retain memories of his youth - but he didn't like hanging up his past for all to see. So Barkelee was more than curious about why the frames were on the wall to begin with. "They're quite lovely standing on their own," the master replied placidly, offering the youth a glass of very dark wine. "Excellently carved wood. And they were gifts. It'd be a pity to let them gather dust." Barkelee was unsure as to how empty, turned around picture frames made any of their givers happen. But given Miss Kor's warnings, he was willing to let it slide. Sir Ifolde was a staunchly middle-aged, egregiously curt man. He did not smoke, and he offered alcohol even though he hims...

"Wanna see my collection of lizard tails?" "Your what?" "Lizard tails! You know...tails from lizards!" "How in Hell did you get lizard tails?" demanded Shaw. "What, did you cut 'em off of victims with a cleaver?" "No, Shaw!" gasped Rensley. "I found 'em! I always find 'em. They wriggle something awful, even without a body. I just pick 'em up and stick 'em in a pretty blue box!"

It's been a week. I wish I could say it's been a great week. It wasn't. It wasn't even a good week. Yes, there were good moments, but there were also bad moments. Really, really bad ones. One of them including the loss of my family's extraordinary cat due to a really bad and sudden illness. I did have a decent Fourth of July. I had some fun on other days. I even got offered a job in Southern Marin, which is great, and it pays well, so if I take it, the main concern is going to be where and how I live. Including whether my sister gets the car or I do. But I feel absolutely "meh" about everything. That's right: The dreaded twenty-something apathy. Someone once told my sister that when it comes to your passions, the high points (as in the moments of enlightenment, euphoria, and total happiness in your life) only occur about five percent of the time. Every other experience is either lousy or just plain mediocre - and it's your job to make the...

Very Probably by Belinda Roddie as Freud would say: very probably he may have put the bullet comfortably in his brain. very probably she could have had sex on a water bed with a psychopath fresh from thirty years in a holding cell. do you feel swollen? out of breath? does your flesh recoil, the taste curdled like milk in your mouth? well, you'd best hope your id rests for at least a moment so you can wash the blood out of the sink because the hungry beast will very probably wake up soon. yes. The work you see here was written in  November of 2010. It was last edited on June 14th, 2012.