My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie "I don't go out to restaurants so much as haunt them." "Yeah. I know." "I mean, the bill can be so steep..." "Yep." "Especially the booze." "Uh-huh." "Always the goddamn expensive booze." "I hear ya." "So I hover around the tables a bit and look a bit sketch until someone leaves. Then I get the remains of their meal." "..." "John.  John. I'm fucking with you." "I know, but...ew." "Ew?" "As in, ew, don't eat people's leftovers at restaurants. I mean, germs." "Oh, yeah. Of course you focus on the sanitary part of it, dude." "Well..." "And not the concept that I am joking about legitimately freaking people out from their tables to eat their stuff." "Well, that was a given." "Oh, fuck you." ...

It was a sacrifice I was willing to make, and one that I carried out quickly and efficiently. I knew that someone out there would need what I was giving up. It wasn't just money. It wasn't just livelihood. It was something that had made me far more functional than the average human being. Something that had turned me into the hero at the end of the twentieth century, now broken down for science a good twenty years later. I was giving away the organ that had granted me superpowers.

I was just about to head to bed when I realized I had an introspection to write. I mean, I had a good week. Met an author, sold some books, entertained my sister's long-time friend, went to the city a couple of times, kept writing... Not really anything to be too introspective about, really. So...yay? Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

"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 Twenty-Two by Belinda Roddie You gave me caramel kisses under the redwood trees. Drawing me to your swollen chest, with leaves tangled in your hair, curling in the autumn winds, you breathed into me. You tasted so sweet, giving me caramel kisses under the redwood trees. We were alone now, in the depths of Muir Woods. The path waited patiently for us to trea...

"It is not okay to withhold this valuable information from our students," Jean Thompson, Dean of Humanities, uttered, "nor is it okay to act like you never had it to begin with." "It is irrelevant to the daily routine of our - " "It is entirely relevant, President Viti," Thompson interrupted, slapping her palm down hard on the table for emphasis. "This is their tuition. It is their investment. And if you squander, you will have the hounds on your heels."

This Candlestick by Belinda Roddie This candlestick is my only hope of sight in this room when wires have frayed and lights have dwindled down to nothing as the shove of wind and rain hinders brightness these nights. I strike a match and bring the flame up close to the short wick, praying the thing will catch and give me just a little bit of glow as I maneuver through the house to latch the doors and shut the windows. Sure enough, the candle flares, and I see my pale, stark complexion in the mirror. A single puff of air threatens to make the whole space dark again. But I let the stub burn and wax stick to my fingers as the storm attacks.

“We need to take a urine sample to make sure you’re not pregnant,” intoned the nurse, looking half-asleep as she perused my clipboard. “No need,” I interjected. “I’m not pregnant.” “But are you sure? Some women don’t know they’re pregnant until they check.” “I’m infertile. Never been able to have kids,” I pointed out, getting somewhat frustrated. “Not pregnant.” “But it says you have a partner on your sheet…” “Yes. Partner. Female partner. Not pregnant. Not possible. No test. I can't have kids. I'm sterile. And I'm done here.”