My Cardboard Balcony

No Hurrah by Belinda Roddie The ants went marching more than one by one, and thus, the invasion was underway. Kitchen defenses were obliterated, living room swept for landmines, even closets raided as if the furniture were prey. Not even vinegar and cinnamon artillery could keep the siege at bay, nor the traps, filled with a poison once as vicious as mustard gas. Hope was abandoned until the general cried out, "Caulk the weak points!" Thus, the blitzing swarm lost the Battle of Warm Suburbia at midnight, but they declared, antennae twitching, they had yet to actually lose the war.

Warriors by Belinda Roddie For our first day back at school, we threw axes.

Oh, Right! Racism! by Belinda Roddie So, um...why haven't Breonna Taylor's murderers been arrested again?

Alexis Webb by Belinda Roddie Sipping from a glass of Scotch, Alexis Webb stood in her small quarters close to a porthole, gazing out at the view of the temporarily calm waters. The already short sleeves of her white uniform top were rolled up, some loose curls from her ponytail draped across the gold and black lapels on her shoulders. Her braided cap sat restlessly on her bed, freed from the tousled hair it had been forced to recline upon. For the first time in seven years, she was itching for a cigarette. Outside her quarters, the captain was throwing a private party. While passengers were feasting and quaffing during their last night on the Pacific, Alexis's fellow officers were also getting drunk and high and having quite a time. Another trip done, checked off on the itinerary. Hopefully, they wouldn't mess with the fire extinguishers this time. Alexis was the Safety Officer on the ship, after all, and she had perpetually been at sea for the last four years. She was ...

Heat Wave by Belinda Roddie "The sun is angry today!" cried little Susie. " Real angry!"

The school year starts remotely on Monday. This is weird. I'm still house hunting because an offer we made fell through because the place needed serious work. The houses we've seen are weird. I was Loud Stone in OK Zoomer's reading of Eurydice. Beautiful play. But also weird. I get to see a short play I recently wrote acted out next week. It is definitely weird. Everything is weird, y'all. It's also super hot, and I hate it. Oh, and  save the post office. Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.

Letter To My Drunken Self by Belinda Roddie Dear Sot, Actually, I shouldn't call you a sot, as these excessive episodes don't happen often. But may I remind you of a few things? Your anxiety sometimes gets the better of you in social settings, and thus, you occasional go beyond the limit your body can handle. And drinking whisky in a heat wave? Really? Don't worry - you didn't make a jackass of yourself. But now others are worried about you. And after crying in the middle of the night from one of the worst headaches you've ever had, perhaps you can remember these tips while hydrating: 1. Stick with hard cider or harder liquor. Don't do both. 2. You tend to shower when you're drunk. Assume you've showered. 3. There is a delicate balance between your "I love you" tipsiness and your self-loathing drunkenness. That's what bothers the wife the most - how self critical you are. 4. Reminder: You rarely get this bad. But when you do...h...