My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie Even though it was late, they waited until all the candles burned out. They watched each stump of wax melt into dark blue rivers, the bubbling beads like glass marbles hot to the touch. They held each other, arms pressed against the other's waist, and barely breathed so as not to disturb the flames. As each prayer sent smoke to the heavens, they hoped that their hopes and dreams would be heard. There had been no games of dreidel this year; no gelt exchanged or gifts offered. But they had cooked latkes, and now they tended to the menorah that was speckled with the hardened blue of candles both now and years ago. When a candle went out, they watched the smoke rise in soft, silent curls that almost reached the ceiling. Before that, however, was the remaining cool blue halo of fire radiating from the crumbling wick. It gave hardly any heat, but still it pressed on and provided what little light it had. All while its brothers melted down their towers in order to ...

"Tell them the truth!" snarled Cassie. "No!" "Tell. Them. The. Truth ." Bart said nothing at first. When he finally did speak, his voice was low and subdued. "I was responsible for the fire." Cassie shook her head. "Louder, Bart." "What?" "Louder, so they can all hear what you have to say." "I was responsible for the fire," repeated Bart, but only a little louder this time.

Okay. So for the most part, it was a good week. My Yearbook staff has been able to submit about a third of the yearbook to our publisher. Some of my English students are a bit of a pain, but they seem to be doing all right essay-wise. And other English students of mine have always been awesome, so I ain't complaining about them. I had a nice start to Hanukkah. Yay for my wife's homemade latkes! I was someone's plus one for Fusion Academy's holiday party tonight...which explains why this introspection is so late. And it also explains why it isn't much of an introspection. Because I'm tired, and it's very, very late. One more week of school before winter break, people. I'll have something more substantial for you to read then. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Candy Cane Lovers by Belinda Roddie Kiss me under the mistletoe. My lips taste like peppermint.

Let me deal the cards, but first, I'll shuffle the deck. I let the kings and queens and jacks leap into the air in an arc, in a black and red rainbow between my fingers. I cast each noble and peasant out so that they're tucked between your fingers, and in the end, you'll no longer be able to tell which will grant you victory and which will be your downfall.

I've Been Feeling by Belinda Roddie I've been feeling a bit like teenagers do when they're confronted with challenges and adulthood. And yet, I'm twenty-eight, and I'm consumed in grown-up craziness. I'd never want to relive high school years, but less responsibility sounds nice, and I would love to sneak out with my peers for dumb shenanigans after midnight, raiding gas station marts for junk food, and trespassing on abandoned property, counting the stars in the sky all by hand and whining about our boring city. I'd never want to be sixteen again, but was my life much easier back then?

It was another night to dance; it was another night to waltz. We kept up with the time signature as much as we could. We counted in threes, and only threes. Your black shoes left black scuffs on the white floor. The hems of my white dress grew black around the edges from dirt and dust and shadows. When the orchestra stopped playing, we stopped and collected ourselves. Perhaps we were now too old for waltzing.