My Cardboard Balcony

When We Were Younger by Belinda Roddie When we were younger, we sat on the hill just outside town, drinking ourselves, hand in hand by sundown, eyes as red as pills, we told the stories of ancestors grand and heritage so lofty that we thought, truly, that we were royalty. That was not quite the case, but six packs that we bought with stolen money gave us quite the buzz and made us strut about like kings, all bright with love, yet dim with burdens, and as hot steam dissipated, so did appetite, and our hunger for glory was soon caught in webs of obligations. While still young, we haven't quite got stories on our tongues.

Bliss by Belinda Roddie When your tea's the perfect temperature on the first sip.

English Class by Belinda Roddie As the story ended, we questioned why the murdered son cried out for his mother. The ever witty student replied, "Are you sure he just wasn't able to finish his curse?"

Discount by Belinda Roddie Found a shopping cart in the river. So many skulls.

This Is It by Belinda Roddie Tell me, if you could save the world, palm its negative energies and convert it to a murky marble to be lobbed into the void, what would you do on that first night of freedom and relief? Would you dance, and if so, who would you dance with?

One Correct Answer by Belinda Roddie I'm perfectly willing to go home if given the option.

Trip by Belinda Roddie Dealing with your bullshit is absolutely detrimental to my health. To spare us both pain, please take two of these white pills, don't question where they're from, and enjoy the supersonic dreamscape of your own immortal insanity.