My Cardboard Balcony

"The conviction must be overturned," Attorney Gerry scowled, "and it must be overturned now. This woman has been in prison for over four years for a crime she did not commit - " "Opinion and opinion only, Missus Gerry," replied the prosecutor, sighing. "The evidence shows that - " "What evidence?" exclaimed the attorney. "There is none! You, sir, only have witness testimony, which the individual retracted at the end of the trial!"

by Belinda Roddie "Pretty sure the guy who lives under the overpass is a wizard." "What? How can you be 'pretty' sure?" Mid-chew, Mel jerked a thumb where a spray of sparks could be seen hurtling from beside the overpass. I strained to look at the writhing ribbons of color and shook my head as my friend took another bite of her to-go calzone. "That could be anything," I remarked. "Could be cheap fireworks. Could be a flare." "Oh, really? Tell me, do most flares you see turn into fire dragons in the sky?" I gazed at Mel skeptically. "I didn't see that." "No, but I did," said Mel, her teeth stained with tomato sauce. "It was fucking epic. And definitely not something you can get from pyrotechnics." We neared the overpass with obvious caution, my fingers drumming against my thigh as I walked. Mel had always been somewhat of a fantasy junkie - reading books about elves, dres...

"Just trust me," I told Martha. "I'm really flexible. The next two weeks are pretty much open, ever since the job didn't work out." Martha still seemed hesitant, cradling her sleeping baby in her arms. In the other room, her three-year-old daughter was watching Sesame Street, giggling every time Cookie Monster began to growl. "Seriously, hon," I insisted. "I can take care of them. Just give me a decent nightly pay, and a chance to eat from your cupboard, and I'll be good."

Okay. So, I just got back from a Giants game (we lost, but it was still fun), and I know that I've put off a longer introspection for a while. A lot has happened - some bad, some good - and I'll try to get it all down without looking sloppy. First of all, my store received a new manager after the last manager didn't work out. Let's just say that the staff is a lot happier, and the store is looking a lot nicer. It's really sad that my last manager, a man I had a lot of confidence in, turned out to be a total dud as a leader and a supervisor. He ultimately took advantage of every worker in the store, delegating the tasks he should have been responsible for to us. It's difficult for me not to secretly wish that karma gets at him, but I think the damage is done, and whatever happens, I hope he's healthy and learning how to improve as a worker. Second of all, my dog of nearly sixteen years died this week. He was definitely deteriorating over the year, and whi...

Still not exactly finding older stuff these days. We'll see if next week, I'll scrounge something up.

When they told me to broaden my horizons, I sewed sails onto a boat and sailed for the eighth sea, one that the same "they" claimed did not exist. It didn't matter. They were the type of people who liked to chastise and not practice what they bragged about being good at. As for me, I breathed salt and tasted fresh air for several months, until the tides pulled me back onto shore and I carved my name into the earth of a brand new world.

A Girl Started A Fight by Belinda Roddie A girl started a fight with headphones on, the music carrying her swings in a raw and rough choreography, the wind bristling the stalks of her straw hair. Her foe was armed and ready, driving a blade hard into her ribs, then fleeing at the scream of police sirens. The girl felt the shard of metal drain her, empty her of stream after stream of blood. Was this the way she had always known it'd end? Her drunken dad had failed at killing her, as had the harsh and bitter life she lived upon the streets. Though hoping she'd survive many more years, she died with French songs blaring in her ears.