My Cardboard Balcony

Power Outage by Belinda Roddie The lights went out at nine o'clock, but we still partied until eleven, drinking wine and beer and sangria and shooting the breeze in the cool air. This was before the wind picked up and scared poor cats dozens of miles away, but we slept soundly regardless, knowing we'd have a lot to clean up in the morning. Also, draping a picture frame over my shoulders would've been fine if the wire hadn't been cutting into my flesh. This week's prompt was provided by the actual power outage we have currently in the bay area, which I reflected on in last night's introspection. Again, welcome to the new world, everyone!

Whew! Another busy week. Got to go to a professional development day all the way in Lindsay, California (yes, that is a real town. With orange orchards...and Confederate flags. Oof) with my principal and my school's band director. Now I'm in Scotts Valley for another Halloween party hosted by my in-laws: Tim Burton-themed, and very much at risk of a power outage thanks to PG&E abetting the climate change/wildfire apocalypse! Welcome to the new age, to the new age! Anyway, as y'all know by now, I love Halloween, and I'll be enjoying myself. Want a hint for my Halloween costume? Here ya go: And remember: Tim Burton-themed. So yeah. I'm going to enjoy this final week of October, and I'm hoping that autumn weather will remember it exists and our monopoly utility in Northern California will stop doing stupid bullshit like intermittently cutting off our power while still accidentally igniting wildfires due to poor equipment and clearing. Gotta love t...

Haunted Road Rage by Belinda Roddie The highway to Visalia contains spooky ghosts. And slow trucks.

I Have Not Slept by Belinda Roddie I have not slept since I have arrived here in purgatory, arms outstretched as waves of limbo's atonement has purged my fear of consequences from the weary saved remnants of my flesh. Do not tempt me, God, to forget foolish conversations lost in cava and whiskey in hotel pods that birth distilled regret at a high cost for my sanity. Fear thee well, demons, who creep across my cerebral cortex, riddled with holes from draughts of booze and sins that remind me of long lost innocence. Adieu, my love, of a conquest most foul that separated logic from its cowl.