My Cardboard Balcony

Ghost In A Crash by Belinda Roddie She waited by the traffic light, and when it turned red, she was gone. The green was there for only a moment before smoke began to bloom.

No OneWord site update today, and I'm not staying up late enough to find out if it's late. G'night!

Fortune Teller by Belinda Roddie Give me your hand, and I will see the cracks in your screaming destiny. My eyes are black - they do not lie. Your past is underwater, your future in the sky.

"Ninety-seven percent of scientists agree about this, Sean." "Well, ninety-seven percent of scientists can suck my d - " The rest of the word was, to my relief, blocked out by the roar of his enormous motorcycle, and he screeched away, laughing, leaving the smell of diesel in my nose and a tickle in my throat. I sighed, picked up my magazine, and skimmed through out. Outside, it was ninety degrees on a March afternoon.

"This isn't an authentic Batman figurine," scowled Grandma. "This is some cheap knockoff. I know this because of the material it's made out of." The clerk behind the counter turned a very bright shade of pink. I couldn't help smiling. My grandma was one of the smartest, nerdiest people I knew, a woman who was more into superheroes and comics than I could ever be. And now, she had caught a worker trying to sell a lousy plastic disaster as an expensive item. "I swear," Grandma continued, "this looks like you got it out of a Happy Meal. What are you thinking, young man?"

by Belinda Roddie Honestly, I liked him better before the surgery. He was softer before the surgery - cuddlier, more human. I liked his folds and rolls and lumps, the way his belly sagged over the denim lip of his jeans. I liked his double chin beneath that magnificent red beard. I liked his arms, his legs, his backside. He had been my giant teddy bear. My adorable lumberjack. He said he had gotten the operation for health reasons, and I figured that was fair. His weight was definitely an issue, and he wanted to be able to walk at least one block without getting winded. Now, however, he looked almost emaciated. Sure, he still had the impressive facial hair and the mischievous glint in his brown eyes that was always familiar to me. Every time he came home after work, however, I wanted to have two steaks prepared for him and him alone, so he could feast after a long year in the wild. Because that's what it seemed like - Vincent was so thin that he looked like a gaunt survivor. ...

"I wish you would actually contribute to the project!" snapped Arnold, his shoulders slumped as he leaned across the desk. "I wish you actually had a good project for me to contribute to," retorted Olivia. "Robotics? Again? I want something different, something exciting." "And robotics aren't exciting why?" Olivia raised an eyebrow. "There is only so far you can go with wires and metal. Me, I look at the big picture. I don't build robots. I build worlds."