My Cardboard Balcony

The Witches by Belinda Roddie Three little witches made a pot of tea - one cup for you and one cup for me. Three little witches made a pot of tea to sip on in the evening. The first little witch added spice and cloves, scratching at the warts that grew on her nose. The first little witch added spice and cloves to our special tea in the evening. The second little witch made the cauldron boil. Her magic was the heat - no fire or oil. The second little witch made the cauldron boil up our special tea in the evening. The third little witch served the tea once steeped - she said that the brew would put us right to sleep. The third little witch served the tea once steeped, which we sipped on in the evening. Three little witches made a pot of tea strong enough to give us whimsical dreams. Three little witches made a pot of tea to sip on in the evening.

You want to talk me all your secrets, but frankly, I don't care. You want to show the world to me, but frankly, I don't care. It's not because I hate you, in case you're unaware. I just can't show emotion, so I really just don't care. I don't care about family; I don't care about friends. I don't care about money or how stories start and end. I don't care about love or care about a lingering stare. I know you want us to be close, but frankly, I don't care.

The Warrior by Belinda Roddie Who says I need a sword and shield to defeat the mighty dragon? I don't have to slay him to make the kingdom safe. I'll just leave some chocolates and fresh flowers in front of his lair every Saturday. Maybe a glittery pink card as well, to let him know that someone is thinking about him. I think he'd like some candles, too - lavender-scented, or vanilla sugar. He can light them just by exhaling. After a few weeks, once he finally trusts me, we'll hang out on Sundays or Mondays, depending on our schedules. I'll sit on a nice throne that rests on a big pile of gold and jewels, and we'll gossip about the king and queen - nothing false or harmful, just idle chitchat over tea and burned biscuits. Every dragon loves burned biscuits. I'll let you know when we exchange phone numbers, and when we plan the first sleepover. After all, isn't the best way to overcome your fear befriending the very thing that...

The Wanderer by Belinda Roddie I've got tired, blistered feet, but I take steady steps as I navigate roads on this arduous trek. I've touched asphalt and sand, trod on both snow and grass, while I say my hellos to the people I pass. At the end of the world, there's a big pot of gold (or so some people say, sages weary and old). I'm not sure of the end to this path that I've started, so I've got to keep pushing and remain lionhearted. If you happen to see me, what's the day? Please remind me. And if you've got the time, maybe walk right beside me. Now, my journey is long, and it's not always easy, but the strangers I meet make the harder times breezy. Why? 'Cause strangers become friends if you give them time; they add stars to your sky and reason to your rhyme. If you, too, find yourself on an arduous trek, know the good times are coming and the bad times are tests. Forge your bonds when you can; on dis...

"How was the pasta, dear?" Kelly made a face. "It was fine," she said. "Too much basil, though." "Really?" Her mother looked incredulous. "I didn't put in any more than I usually do." Pushing her empty plate away, Kelly said nothing more as she walked to the living room to finish her history homework. Her mother was left to stare confusedly into space.

Isn't it far from unusual at this point to see this grown man cry on the street corner? And isn't it typical to observe the awkward stares and glares he receives from passersby? Look, you jerks - he just lost his house in the latest recession, and his dog died in a freak kitchen accident involving beef jerky, and his wife left him because the poor guy doesn't have the cheeriness to get it up anymore.