My Cardboard Balcony

Moving Day by Belinda Roddie The moving truck came roaring in - it bellowed and it roared. It bellowed like an animal I'd never heard before. The crying children laughed a lot, and the laughing children cried. They carried away boxes and told all their friends goodbye. The mother kissed the father, and the father kissed the mother. The brothers hugged their sisters and the sisters hugged their brothers. And me, I stood outside my door and watched the family leave, the moving truck roaring behind them - really quite a scene.

The old red Jeep Wrangler had been abandoned in front of our cabin for over fourteen years now. It sat on only three wheels, the fourth of which had been wrecked beyond recognition, and browning moss grew around its haggard alloy frame and steering wheel. It had seen many fun joyrides when my grandfather was still alive; now, it merely sat like a worn down metal skeleton, refusing to decompose.

Fourth Of July by Belinda Roddie fireworks go boom bottles go clink pinwheels go zoom dry eyes go blink red, white, and blue flags are whipping in the breeze can we make America civil again, please?

Enemies of freedom, I defy you. Money-grabbing tycoons eager to burn journalists at the stake, I defy you. Shadow men who wish to sabotage democracy; narcissists gaining blisters on their fingers from trolling; politicians eager to strip away our flesh from our hungry bones. You may dismantle this country for raw goods, but to the bitter end: I defy you.

Monday's Mantra by Belinda Roddie The lesson for today is that any bad mood can be fixed with just the appropriate amount of deep dish four cheese pizza and summer honey cider.

"I refuse to have any doctor give my beautiful daughter a single vaccine," scoffed the mother in the red skirt and white blouse. "You realize they cause autism, right?" Her words were followed by a yelp as the high schooler in front of her proceeded to slap her across the face. A silence fell over everyone in the line. "Sorry, lady," said the high schooler. "It's an illness I have. I was never vaccinated against violently reacting to stupid."

I couldn't tell what the plot of the movie was when I walked on set, but I could certainly hazard a guess that it was meant to be futuristic. In one corner, a group of men and women were crowded around a prototype of what was meant to be a spaceship, tinkering away at its body. The film's director - a stout red-headed woman known for her epic sci-fi sagas - was speaking with one of the actors, wildly gesticulating during the conversation.