My Cardboard Balcony

The Paleolithic Age by Belinda Roddie Below the setting sun, you'll find two fathers sharing wine beside a campsite, where the tents glow white and near translucent in the light. One father thinks about his son, the other pondering over his wandering daughter, not realizing that behind the trees, the two youths have made their rendezvous in leaves and shrubbery that's shrunk from drought - standard abuse from the early summer, which extends its fingers long enough to force the older men to wipe the offending sweat from their protruding, Neanderthal brows.

Two women sit in dark red dresses at the small French restaurant where the roses grow in pots and the violin music is sharp and whining. They attempt to influence one another with their words, with their mantras, with their spells. One of them wields the power of academics, while the other simply has the siren's tongue. She practically sings as she speaks, and every poor sailor on the shore swims to her.

On Parade by Belinda Roddie Clap, clap, clap for the jesters on parade Slap, slap, slap like a hand across the face Flap, flap, flap like the wings of birds of prey Laugh, laugh, laugh 'til your pleasures fade away

Mister Nova discovered that both Roger and Henry had cheated on their history essays, but the funniest part was how. It had all started with a glance at a Wikipedia page, then at some of the sources linked to said page. As it happened, Roger and Henry had copied from the exact same articles verbatim - and they had worked together on the plan, too! In short, Mister Nova was happy to invite the sheepish boys to his office at the very farthest corner of the history department building, sharpening a pencil and whistling a tune as they ambled in.

Jane thought she'd be a skater so she could impress Tammy, who had been skateboarding since she was four feet tall and still chewing watermelon-flavored bubble gum. Jane tried to do an ollie and wound up skinning her left knee and twisting her right ankle - a painful combination. Tammy took her to her car to ice her ankle and patch up her knee, and as the scabs formed, Jane thought about trying again to be a badass for her crush.

by Belinda Roddie "You know, any food can be green if you wait long enough." "I...don't think that's how it works." "No, really! Just let 'em get moldy, et voilà! Green food." "Okay. First of all, most mold isn't green on food. It's gray, and brown, and black..." "Ick. No fun. Definitely not festive." "And second of all, if our food turned green, we wouldn't eat it." "I know." "We'd throw it the fuck away." "I know, dude! I'm just saying - if you want more green for St. Patrick's Day, you know what to do." "I kiiiiiind of get the feeling that green food coloring would be more efficient." "And who forgot to get green food coloring at the store? Hmmm?" "...You did." "...No." "You forgot to get green food coloring." " No." "I specifically sent you off to the grocery sto...

"You ever think we'll get out of this alive?" asked Brach, as he passed me a bottle of something purple and strong. I laughed. "Some soldiers might call that wishful thinking, comrade." I drank from the bottle and tasted a mixture of plums and burning. And not like a delicious plum pudding lit on fire, either. No, just burning. "I figured," sighed Brach. He leaned against the wall now, snapping and unsnapping the clips on his utility belt.