My Cardboard Balcony

In The Kitchen by Belinda Roddie The slim shadow lingers on sticky butterscotch fingers. She sticks them into my mouth - with my consent, of course. I taste more than sugar. I taste black tea and trauma, dried raspberries and desperation. It's like a strange and comforting cobbler.

A New Mutant by Belinda Roddie I didn't know I could heal so fast. Was I magical?

Daze by Belinda Roddie We are all, in our own way, drunk and stupefied - the intoxication varies like flowers, some still trapped in bud form, others drooping from the burden of their own delicate wings. As we grasp for solid walls, floors are the only gods that can hold us up. Like Atlas, their hands are rigid against an imposing celestial crown. You and I, we drink red wine together, while Mother drinks Scotch, and Father swore off drinking all but tea. We are all dehydrated. We are all confused. And none of us are satisfied.

Oh, No by Belinda Roddie She risked falling in love again. It was with Sarah.

Stargazing by Belinda Roddie Let's add oat milk to our tea and gently kiss.

Exhausted by Belinda Roddie I am too old for your self-righteous and self-indulgent drama.

Cozy The Blanket Ghost by Belinda Roddie We found out about Cozy thanks to our Aunt Savannah - a strict-nosed, pince-nez wearing, sweet tea drinking old soul who loved all things supernatural. She had stayed in our guest bedroom one night and swore up and down the next morning that the blue throw blanket we had strewn across the comforter was, in fact, a friendly phantasm. Truth be told, we had never viewed it as anything special. The blanket had not been stitched by a loved one's wrinkled yet diligent hands, nor had it been bequeathed to us as an heirloom. In fact, I had bought it some years ago - or rather, my mother had purchased it for me, as an addition to my first dorm room upon my pseudo-grandiose entrance to a private university. It was a bit worn down in places, but goodness, was it warm, and I had nestled under it many times, be it on a bed or couch, typically these days with a cuddly cat grooming himself on top of my blanketed stomach. This week's prompt was provided...