My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie I wanted to savor it, but it was just too good to resist. So I ate it all in a couple of bites. I sat down on the nearest plastic chair to let my stomach settle. All the flavors hit like the aftershock of an earthquake. Chocolate and raspberry and spun sugar. An incorrigible tornado of sweetness. Luckily, there had only been one slice left of Grandma Wendy's signature cake, so it was impossible for me to be tempted to get more. The family picnic was winding to a close at this point; my parents were busy cleaning up the main food table, and Uncle Charles was cracking open the last couple of beers, handing a bottle to my cousin Dwayne and walking with him down to the creek. We had opted for a barbecue in the neighborhood park, since my mom was still renovating her backyard, tearing out the old lawn and replacing it with desert-appropriate fare. I never thought I'd like cacti so much until the drought hit us harder than any other region. I wasn't ex...

The two old men were wining and dining, chewing and grinding, sharing stories and bad jokes at the corner table. It was actually fun to listen in on. The two elderly gents appeared to be very close - friends, or perhaps even lovers. But they did appear to be reconnecting or rekindling something that perhaps had been lost long ago. One of them still had a good head of hair, his smile big beneath his lumberjack-esque beard.

I would be lying if I said that my mentors and teachers weren't the main reason why I decided to become a teacher myself. They have been a godsend to me, as both a student and a teacher. When my school's yearbook was distributed yesterday and today, I was prepared to deal with fall-out. And yes, despite an overwhelmingly positive reaction, some mistakes were made, affecting more students than I certainly would have liked. Still, I worked to rectify the problem. I empathized with the students and offered them the best solution I had. And I hope it helps. It's what I learned to do, in order to become a compassionate and problem-solving educator. My principal, colleagues, and fellow teachers have all served as wonderful mentors to me this year as I've navigated yearbook and my English classes. I have worked with an amazing mentor teacher for my induction, had the former yearbook teacher and her husband assist in creating the yearbook, and learned so much from my fellow...

One Year Down by Belinda Roddie It wasn't perfect, but I published it. My first yearbook.

She destroyed my house. She wrecked my car. And on top of that, she stole my heart. I knew that was a big mistake to love her, but it was mine to make. She was pure living TNT, and soon, she'd make a fool of me. She'd lead me down a twisted path and strand me in the aftermath. I'd be just like that automobile - a broken pile of junk and steel.

So Soon by Belinda Roddie So soon do stars bring weary men to sleep upon the rugged riverbed at night. They do not know what company they keep, nor, when morning comes, there will be light. The sun grows dimmer each cold, passing day, and frost grows even in the midst of June, painting landscapes a chilly blue and gray, forming icy cratered lips like the moon has kissed Mother Earth hard and rough enough to cause the warmth in her to dissipate, like watching heat being drawn from tough blood with a natural syringe. Yes, men wait to wake up in a world where we don't sleep and shiver in the summer snows so deep.