Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie

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He heard the rumbling before he saw the truck, so he was able to jump out of the way just in time at the rickety red pick-up rolled onto the gravel driveway. Once the dust had literally settled, he heard the jingling of spurs as the brown toes of worn down cowboy boots emerged from the driver’s side. Deputy Sheriff Teresa Hawley, dark-haired and freckled, hopped down to the ground with a slight grunt, then pushed the brim of her hat up and grinned.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.20.2018 @ 1:34 pm


William had a receding hairline, just like his father before him, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father. Still, he did his best to groom the rest of the locks he had. He’d obsessively comb each clump of strands, using the finest gel to slick it back. Still, his forehead now resembled a car’s windshield catching the sunlight. There was no way around: Alopecia was a real b****.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.19.2018 @ 1:57 pm


He slaves away at his desk all night, the sweat collecting in strings across the nape of his neck like brand new hairs he doesn’t want. As his fingers cramp, he checks the time and realizes how long it’s been since he’s slept. Half a day now. He edits and omits and changes and adds until the world outside is dark again. And yet, he is not even a third of the way through.

Data entry. He has to be the ghost writer for a memoir about DATA ENTRY.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.16.2018 @ 8:45 pm


Somehow, you remain as crafty, as cunning, and as conniving as possible. Your solutions to problems don’t so much make amends as they burn bridges. And yet, here I am, handing you another Molotov cocktail. You hurl it toward the heavens and laugh as if you’ve caused God’s domain to burst into flames. As if your deity Herself could ever self-destruct.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.14.2018 @ 9:34 pm


The panel consisted of three women and three men. Two of the men were gay, the other man was African-American, two of the women were Asian, and one of the women was trans. They discussed everything from comic books to film adaptations to the future of science fiction. And somehow, that rubbed the good ol’ bigots the wrong way. It didn’t matter that these queer and diverse artists were revolutionizing the culture of nerdery as we knew it: No, as long as they didn’t fit the mold, they were traitors to the grossly narrow scope that was considered, “the mainstream.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.11.2018 @ 6:52 pm


Dr. Wilkerson walked through the rather extravagant atrium toward Professor Anway’s house, and she was amazed at the sight of all the marble and gold leaf and other aesthetic ornaments. When she saw Anway approaching her, she also noticed that the cane he was leaning on had a pearl grip.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.10.2018 @ 9:02 am


Some guys stole all the twenties from the cash register at my dad’s liquor store, but when they tried to make a dash for it, they crossed paths with our adorable pit bull, Larry. Larry was, in reality, a total sweetheart, but it was enough to make the grown-ass dudes shriek like prima donnas and run the other way. The police were happy to cart them off to the local jail, and Larry got some treats out of it, so I’d say it was a good day for my big, lovable pooch.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.07.2018 @ 8:22 pm


I met Chelsea at 11:20 AM in the middle of Central Square in Burgundy. She was beautiful, as always. She wore her red hair up in a crooked bun, and she squeezed her vape pen in her left hand like it was a magic wand, and she was a wizard attempting to make the world right again. We sat down on a bench together to talk.

“You want ice cream?” was my first question, as I pointed to a confection van idling near the playground.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.04.2018 @ 9:50 pm


How long have you been working on the railroad? Has it really been all the live long day? Because last I checked, you were the heir to at least twenty million dollars as soon as your super wealthy father kicked the bucket. I guess you weren’t exactly proving to him that you earned it. So, nothing like an afternoon’s worth of labor and sweat, huh?

Only I’ve been working here way longer than you could ever imagine. I’d say you ought to learn from me, but you don’t seem to be the learning type.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 08.02.2018 @ 10:50 am


Every piece of me has been separated across all seven seas. If you wish to find all of me, you will need to search far and wide. You will need to fly, sail, swim, hike, crawl, and trek your way up mountains, through valleys, across rivers, and over cooling clouds. If you happen to find the key elements first, then perhaps the rest of me will be less reluctant to join them. It will take time, as well as patience, which I hope you have.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.31.2018 @ 7:03 pm


Hop on the wagon, boys, and we’ll go fishing until the sun sets. Keep your rods steady and your lines intact and your reels always a-spinning. We’ll meet your sister when it’s dark out and share a six pack by the cabin. Then before the mosquitoes bite, we’ll slip into bed and do it all again tomorrow.

Your sister has a better cast and a stronger grip than all of you combined. See if you can catch a larger trout than she does, but I’ll bet my gold tooth that she can’t be beat!

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.29.2018 @ 11:14 pm


Here’s what I’d suggest to you, old man, before you hurt yourself or anyone else: Get out. Pack your bags, sell your house, hop in your dingy pick-up truck, and just drive away. Drive away until you can’t see our little town on the horizon anymore, and make sure you leave behind any traces of your name – real or fake. We won’t miss you. We won’t cry for you. We just want everyone to be safe. And they won’t be until you’re living out in the wilderness and leaving the rest of us normal folk alone.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.28.2018 @ 12:05 am


This is the place where they marked us. I remember the moment I screamed. It’s quite the sensation to be branded, to be labeled, to be burned with the insignia of somebody else. It’s not exactly a romp in the park to be deemed someone else’s property. Yet, here we are, with all the fires around us. The ones we set in the middle of the night.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.23.2018 @ 11:24 pm


She didn’t attack me physically, but she did verbally eviscerate me. She used every piece of vocabulary she had learned since she was a child. She relied on insults provided by Shakespeare and other playwrights. She dug so deeply into me using language that the words left small cuts everywhere – like paper slices across my skin.

When she was done, I was sitting on the floor, staring out into space. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Any time but now.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.21.2018 @ 8:24 pm


Leslie wore white sneakers, torn purple-stained jeans, and a black hoodie with an indecipherable logo splayed across it in metallic gold. She walked over to the counter to order a black coffee, and the shy, red-haired and dimpled barista fell absolutely in love with her. This was Vanessa, and she was just getting over the terrible night she had just hours ago, when her father had once again threatened to kick her out of the house.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.19.2018 @ 4:27 pm


Is everything between us just a stunt, like the ones you pulled on movie sets, until you pulled your back out so far that it was like you were a marionette growing strings? Is every word we exchanged as worthless as zinc flattened out into currency that’s rarely used and barely relevant that days? Look, it’s raining outside, on a July afternoon. I’d like to see you drown in it.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.17.2018 @ 6:02 pm


I remember waking up at the hospital and feeling the needles in my arms. I knew what had happened prior to this arrangement – I could still recall the color and make of the vehicle that hit me. A blue Ford Focus, already sporting a decent dent in the front bumper. That should have been an omen for me.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.15.2018 @ 10:10 pm


Tell me why you want to try to be a rapper. Tell me what kind of beats you’ll mix. Tell me how you’re going to build your fanbase. Tell me all of your tips and tricks. I’ve never heard you utter a syllable. Is the only way you can do it? You stand on the stage and verbally rage and froth at the mouth like there’s nothing to it.

Tell me why you want to try to be a rapper. Is it your last attempt at communication?

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.14.2018 @ 10:13 pm


How long can you be sleepless before the dreams you were supposed to have become real? I’ve heard it’s possible – your brain readjusts to the dry wasteland of being awake, and so the hallucinations start while your eyes are still open. You see colors you didn’t believe existed before, dipped in everything from infrared to ultraviolet. The textures are different, too – winter has gotten warmer, and the pins and needles in your feet create cushions.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.13.2018 @ 8:12 am


I haven’t used my typewriter in years. Everything is done by hand. They tell me I should get one of them newfangled computers, but I ain’t in the mood to learn new technology. I write until my hand cramps up, and then I record my thoughts on a cassette tape, which I play back and listen to multiple times until my fingers start seizing and I start to feel pins and needles in my palm.

My novel remains unfinished. I remain unpublished.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.11.2018 @ 10:55 pm


I didn’t mind my job, honestly. Sure, the work was occasionally tedious, and spending all that time in a cubicle did quite a deal of damage to my already out of shape back. But my coworkers were nice, and my boss had a good head on her shoulders. I worked 9 to 5, Monday to Friday, and felt a sense of normalcy. I hadn’t felt that in a while.

Of course, that was before my brother called me from prison.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.10.2018 @ 8:06 am


We were barely hanging on to life when the heatwave took over the battlefield. By then, water supplies had dwindled to almost nothing, and those who weren’t dehydrated quickly succumbed to heat stroke. It was, allegedly, record-breaking, the earth scorched and the grass turned brown by the time the pressure eased off and winds began to blow again.

I cradled my sergeant in my arms on the last day and tried to give her my canteen of water. But she refused to take a single sip.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.07.2018 @ 11:02 pm


Steve and Sebastian sealed the floors, slammed the shutters, and locked the doors. Steve and Sebastian were shut up tight, and they didn’t want guests anymore.

Carl and Christina kept their lights on, their fun nights long, and their voices in song. Steve and Sebastian didn’t like it, but Carl and Christina stayed strong.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.07.2018 @ 12:46 am


“Hey, I’d like the fried chicken plate, please.”

“No problem. Mashed potatoes?”

“Yes, please. And corn.”

“$9.99, please.”

“Whoa! Whooooaaa. That’s a bit pricey, my friend.”

“It’s…been this price for almost nine years, sir.”

“Still, though…$9.99. That’s almost, like…ten bucks.”

“…So do you not want your chicken, sir?”

“No, no, I’ll take it! Just…everything’s so expensive, man.”


» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.05.2018 @ 3:00 pm


“I went to the bank like you told me to.”

“No,” I replied. “No, you didn’t.”

He bristled. The hair on his head stood up in the cold breeze. “Are you calling me a liar?” he scowled.

“Yes,” I retorted, holding out my phone, “because I just checked the account. There were no deposits made in the past three days. Now, just tell me what you did with my money, and we can figure things out without my having to call the authorities.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.03.2018 @ 9:42 pm


My mother said to always eat my greens, but I didn’t think it’d turn me into a lean, mean, killing machine. Yet here I am, built for adequate slaughter, using machetes to protect my teenage daughter. I’m the Punisher’s protégé, yet I’m not quite certain I was ever prepared to take on this burden. I have to wonder if I’d add to the dead if I had loaded up on red meats and starches instead.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.02.2018 @ 3:38 pm


The monthly premium that my father paid for my mother’s insurance was gargantuan; I was amazed that he could afford it. He confided in me about it over martinis at the Dry Well in downtown Arkania, informing me that he was pulling from retirement funds.

“She’s not going to live that much longer, far as I can tell,” he said with a loud sigh. “And if she’s not with me, then I don’t think I want to stay retired for long.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.30.2018 @ 10:08 pm


Somebody told me that you told somebody else that I was seeing someone other than my beautiful wife. And I swear, once I find you, I’ll make you feel like the least somebody anybody could ever be.

Okay, now somebody told me that you didn’t tell somebody that I was seeing someone else. Which is good. ‘Cause I’m not seeing someone. There is no somebody. There is nobody. F*** off.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.29.2018 @ 11:53 pm


They say you shouldn’t shoot the messenger, yet here I am: bleeding profusely on the king’s carpet, mixing red with red, though the red from me will turn to brown in just a few hours as the oxygen in the air has its way with it. The king holsters his gun, and I am left to cling to what little life I have now as the monarch’s steward stares at me.

“Your Majesty,” he says, “do you think, perhaps, you may have overreacted a bit to the news?”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.28.2018 @ 10:44 pm


My poor 1994 Honda Civic needed new brakes, a new steering column, and four brand spanking new tires. I was almost wondering if it was time to turn in the old piece of scrap metal and invest in another car. However, the mechanic – a young, strapping lady with black hair and a cute smile – told me to reconsider.

“I can take of this, no problem,” she insisted. “For half the cost those other dealerships would milk out of you.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.27.2018 @ 9:46 pm

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