My Cardboard Balcony

They apprehend me, they cuff me, and they leave me in a room with new windows and a locked door. I find myself drawn to the corner, where the shadows cool my face off just right, as my wrists shake beneath the weight of shackles that I didn't even think the authorities had around anymore. The air is stuffy, yet very cold at the same time. It tightens the air in my larynx, dries out my voice, and leaves me nearly mute. Which is probably exactly what they wanted.

by Belinda Roddie Alexandria Morgan Richter was, perhaps, the most selfish girl to ever walk the earth. At least, that's what I thought. Or what I thought based on several classmates' testimony. Alexandria was two years my senior, but that didn't stop the vitriol even from the freshmen at the university who had barely even gotten to know her within three months. Therefore, it was more than surprising for me when, as I sat upright in my hospital bed, scrolling through Tumblr on the tablet that my mother had provided me during my recovery, that she cautiously traipsed into my room, a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a box of chocolates clenched in the opposite fist. "Um...hello." I suppose she had expected me to be asleep or distracted by a nurse or someone else in the room, because she quickly averted her eyes, dropped off her gifts on the nearest table, mumbled a raspy, "Feel better," and hurried out of my room in half the time i...

"It's entirely plausible that the Council will be uneasy about letting us leave so early," Mistress Kor murmured as she made to refill her glass. "Ever since our arrival, tensions between the factions have...loosened, to put it casually." Arvey couldn't quite understand why. A gang of travelers, bent on marking and documenting uncharted or unconquered territory, couldn't possibly have that much of an effect on such a troubled town.

Kind of think the obstacles in my life are biting into me pretty hard right now. First, my money situation is far from ideal. Second, applying for teaching credentials is nerve wracking because a) I'm not sure how I can pay for more school, b) I'm not sure how I can travel to said school, and c) I'm not sure if I'll even get a good teaching job from getting a credential. Third, my writing projects haven't exactly gone anywhere and I'm doing abysmally in terms of finding anyone willing to look at my stuff, let alone publish my stuff. Add the unholy trinity to a big cauldron of little annoyances, and bam - you have a very confusing, mind-warping day. So I got frazzled at work and went home with my head spinning, and yes, I actually began to doubt things I either had never doubted before or things I hadn't doubted in a long time. Namely, the idea that my girlfriend will stay in love with me. My sister has recently been going through some heartbreak, and I thi...

"Caramel Kisses" is an unfinished novel I began to write back in 2009 and stopped working on in 2010. The two main characters - Adriana Maguire Reynard and Emma Burking - would ultimately be revised for my later completed novella, "The Liffey Is Half-Asleep," in 2011. Several elements of "Liffey" can be found in their original forms in "Caramel Kisses," such as the characters' names, the haiku scene, and Adriana's penchant for writing. Because of its influence on my later writing, I figured that this story, though incomplete, was worth sharing. Caramel Kisses: Chapter Ten by Belinda Roddie My play was accepted for an original drama festival in San Francisco, to be held in October. It was a standard original work celebration, rife with pieces too erotic or graphic to be put on by any mainstream theater company, but in my burst of pride and disbelief I pictured it all done like a Shakespeare festival, with tambourines and flutes being ...

Stretching the taffy against his molars, Nicky chewed the candy vigorously, his sticky hands glued to the inside of his pockets as he trudged toward the train station. Beside him, a woman pushing a grocery cart looked like she made a living selling sleeping bags. Across the rails, a dog with no collar could be seen scratching at the root of a bending tree, as if desperate to find a lost bone.

I Made Rings by Belinda Roddie I made rings out of tiny forks, the kind you'd use for appetizers, like olives, at dinner parties. I would slowly wind and bend them 'round thumbs and fingers. Cursive I'd etch into the metal, and I'd hot glue beads and cheap gemstones to add a flare to the stainless steel. At first, no one bought the things I peddled at the Old Town Square, but one day, a young girl came up to me and asked to try on one utensil ring, and as I coiled it against her skin, she lit up and paid double for the darn thing. Who knows if she'll start the trend one fall day - I'm bending forks forever, anyway.