Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie

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I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know how I got there. I didn’t know where I was going or who I was going to meet or even when this was all going to end. But I could say with absolute certainty what my name was. That was one thing I had. And I wouldn’t say it out loud in case that was stolen from me, too. I had had enough swiped from my hands over the past few days to make me cautious of every interaction I partook in.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.26.2018 @ 7:26 am


When the winter snows started falling again, my sister and I would travel out to the hills to collect the last remaining iris that did their best to grow before being blanketed by frost and ice. I would wear our mother’s gloves, and my sister would wear our father’s red quilted jacket, the collar turned up so that it covered her quivering chin and lips. Still, you could see how flushed her cheeks got in the chill, as he pulled up each fragile flower and placed it gently into a shared wicker basket.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.24.2018 @ 2:50 pm


I love everything about you.

You’re going to have to be more specific.

But I can’t be. I just…I love everything about you.



I…kind of find that hard to believe.

What’s hard to believe about it?

You can’t possibly love EVERYTHING about me.

Oh, yeah? Try me.

Okay, well…I pick my nose when you’re not looking.

Huh. Okay.


Then I love mostly everything about you.

Oh, boy. Yeah, I’m gonna have to keep going down the list, aren’t I?

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.20.2018 @ 3:29 pm


Look at me – I’m dressed to the nines. I’m a dapper f***ing penguin, I am. Watch me waddle to the buffet and stuff my face with cheese balls and chocolates until my cheeks are sore. I hope there’s music, because when I dance, I’m shimmying all over that sleek linoleum. Hate all you want, but I’m a fat tuxedo’d motherf***er who don’t need no man and can crash any party like a pimped out limousine.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.18.2018 @ 9:26 pm


You know you’re reaching for something too far away from you, my darling. You know you can’t actually grab a star if you can’t even make it to the moon. Even if you brought back a lunar lump of something celestially extraordinary, I’m not sure she’d even bat a single eyelash in your direction.

Just as well – keep your fingers on the highest shelf you can touch. There are good things to snatch from there, good things to keep a hold on.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.16.2018 @ 5:27 pm


We danced, and the sun dipped its hat in homage to our choreography. We danced, and the trees bent into curtsies as we swayed beside them in the wind. We danced, and the grass caressed our shoes while we laid tracks down with our weight. We pretended that, when we danced, the earth stopped what it was doing and watched. But in truth, when we danced, it was dark, and cold, and now even the stranger creatures of the night were intrigued by the contortions of our bodies.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.15.2018 @ 7:22 am


Well, then, pretty lady. I guess I have to run into you again at this quaint little coffeehouse. I guess we’ll have to both endure the boy in the beret beating on the bongos – like my alliteration there? Who knows if either of us are exactly that into poetry – I have mixed feelings myself. They make a good mocha here, so if you want, pretty lady, you can have a couple on me. It’s entirely your call.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.13.2018 @ 12:20 pm


“Why do you think he’s here?” whispered Anya, her eyes narrowed above the brim of her beer stein.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Maybe he’s waiting for a friend?”

“Pfft. Doubt it. I’m sure there’s some girl he’s planning to stalk or whatever.”

I stared at Anya. It wasn’t like her to be so accusatory. What had Marshall done to her to make her so suspicious of him and his actions? Besides, this was the best bar in town – he didn’t need to ask for permission to frequent it.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.12.2018 @ 11:36 am


I couldn’t tell if the last remaining strands of hair on Grandma’s head were white or gold – if the sun hit them right, you could see a flaxen sheen, though again, I wasn’t sure if that was the natural color or not. Still, it was strange to see my grandmother balding while my grandfather had a full head of hair. She covered it up most of the time, wearing a scarf around her head or one of the hats she had knitted over the past four months.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.11.2018 @ 10:30 am


I didn’t want to use a tired cliche, but a light bulb popped up above my head as I watched my friends scramble to jump start the van. I knew that we didn’t have jumper cables, but I wondered if a little bit of scientific finagling would do the trick.

“Wesley!” I cried. “Get me a screwdriver and a paper clip!”

Wesley stared at me like I had two heads. Everyone else furrowed their brows.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.10.2018 @ 9:30 am


Shawn went to the grocery store to pick up some beef jerky and some lighters. She wouldn’t tell the cashier why she was buying the lighters, but she wasn’t a smoker; one look at her white, pristine teeth could tell you that. When she got home, she wrapped up the stray fingers in the plastic bag and buried it in a tree trunk. And then she used the lighters to set the tree on fire. And she watched the inferno while eating her pepperoni-flavored beef jerky.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.08.2018 @ 8:15 am


I thought maybe the way we moved toward each other was just a fluke of physics – that the elements around us simply pushed us closer together as if gravity was pulling from the space between us. But your body was warm – really warm. And I felt my hands tremble as you gripped my wrists. And we ignored the movie in front of us, and the people around us chewing loudly on popcorn kernels.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.07.2018 @ 7:29 am


Sierra didn’t know how long she had been in the hospital. And when she asked, the nurses and doctors didn’t seem to remember. They acted as if she had always been there – always a part of the scenery, with the IV needle stuck deep into the crook of her emaciated arm, the continuous beeping of the heart monitor drilling itself into her brain like a parasite. She wanted to call her parents – but she couldn’t remember what their phone number was. Or where they lived. Or what they looked like.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.04.2018 @ 9:11 pm


How many of you believe in ghosts? Perhaps only a handful of the crowd you stand in at the bus stop, or in the line where you wait for your overpriced coffee? Or maybe you find more believers among the skeptics at museums, or in fancy restaurants, or walking along the pier? Maybe, if you believed hard enough, you’d be able to see me, smoking a cigarette I can’t taste and wearing a coat that no longer provides me warmth, perched where the sunset hits the back of the local grocery store.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.03.2018 @ 9:35 am


She told her father that she had stopped taking the pills. That they had made her more anxious than ever – more jittery, more fidgety, more obsessed with details. When he tried to force her back onto the prescription, she reacted the way any teenager in fear would – she ran. She ran with one backpack and a sandwich and left her cellphone at home, scaling the steps of a bus and counting how about seconds it took her to find an empty seat: Two.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.01.2018 @ 9:42 pm


Look at her, all smiles and sequins, skirt and sashay up to the big old Hollywood stage. She was nominated for six awards, you see – for acting, design, directing, and a screenplay that read like poetry. And don’t forget the visual effects and cinematography. She’s a one woman show – a bombastic box office boon. Just imagine all the champagne glasses dropping when she waltzes into the room.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.31.2018 @ 2:50 pm


I never thought I’d feel my body compromised by gamma rays. The acid rain didn’t have a chance to touch me before I crumpled forward. The ultraviolet violence made a wreckage of my feeble frame. Extinction was as imminent as blinking in the face of death. I knew that none of this was scientific, but sure, I digress. A dying individual is permitted to go off on tangents.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.29.2018 @ 9:19 pm


Once Roger started screaming at me, my response was practically automatic. I didn’t run; I didn’t flinch or pull away as if burned by an invisible flame. I didn’t freeze and let my body stiffen as if I had been dipped into amber and fossilized for future alien archaeologists. No, I was the person who reacted with…well, action. I chose “fight.”

So I hit him. And hard, too. He toppled over, the blood gushing from his nose as if it were a broken faucet, his words torn from his throat as he was too stunned to respond verbally.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.28.2018 @ 9:14 pm


There weren’t exactly any lessons to learn from this – at least, not any I could particularly fathom. In the end, I was bruised, battered, emaciated, and exhausted. My friends were equally as scraped up and starved. We stood in front of our mentor, who smiled as if the great challenge had turned us into far better adults than we could have imagined. But we were all still sixteen, and we were all still confused as to why it seemed that every bone in our body hurt.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.26.2018 @ 9:46 pm


I had jumper cables in the trunk of my car, but I also had two packs of beer, a bottle of wine, and three massive jugs of whiskey glowing amber and brown in the thin night lighting around me. The guy who needed his battery jolted stared curiously as I took the cables in one hand and a beer in the other.

“Gonna share?” he asked.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.26.2018 @ 7:43 am


Please don’t touch me there, sir. I’m very sensitive to physical contact. I feel every goosebump erupt from my skin like new volcanoes from a dry, epidermal ocean. I smell all the oils and grease on your body, and when you put your lips close to mine, the breath that emerges from between your teeth is like the gust of wind from a noxious storm, and I have to shield my face.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.24.2018 @ 9:20 pm


It was high time for a kiss and a crime on a starry, starry night. I was waiting with the guns and goods at the corner of Ninth and Hyde. She came running over with her hat tipped over, the brim covering her eyes. And we broke out of rank and into the bank and cast our luck like dice.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.23.2018 @ 6:03 pm


He was acting so strangely that I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle the laughter. I wasn’t sure if he was drunk, or high, or sleep deprived, or all of the above. All I knew was that he was straddling the lamppost, gurgling and making other odd noises from the back of his throat. It wasn’t long until the sirens flashed on in reds and blues, and he wailed along with the moans of the police cars.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.20.2018 @ 5:14 pm


Twin? TWIN? I have one of those! She’s pretty cool. She lives in New York, and I could take her kidney if I needed it. Not that I would just take it; I mean if I was in the hospital, and I needed a kidney, then she could give one to me, no problem. My body wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference. It’d be like welcoming a part of the family home. Anyway, most of my students don’t know I have an identical twin sister, but hey – I’d consider her my best friend.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.19.2018 @ 4:33 pm


“Get us out of here!” screamed Ivan.

“I can’t!”

“Get us out of here NOW!”

“The door’s locked, you idiot!” bellowed Andy, who furiously jostled with the doorknob to prove it. Ivan and she were trapped in the basement of their stepfather’s house, and Ivan was already losing his mind.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.18.2018 @ 6:03 pm


We didn’t believe it was paradise then, and we sure as Hell don’t think it’s paradise now. We don’t see colors in this place anymore; everything is just choked in shawls of black and gray. We can’t remember with a sunrise used to look like; we can’t even tell when the sun sets anymore. We collect our seashells and glass on the shore, where the water leaves stains on the charred sheets of sand.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.17.2018 @ 5:03 pm


Charles wanted an order of fries with no salt. But every time he got a basket, those potatoes were grimy from the sodium. He threw a fit then, screaming at the top of his lungs, but the cashier was snot-nosed and bratty, and she had no interest in resolving the situation.

“How difficult is it to not pour salt onto French fries?” demanded Charles’ father, who was red in the face. “You need me to babysit you behind the counter? Or are you just being a jerk?”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.16.2018 @ 2:36 pm


There is where we stay tonight; this is where we lodge. No bunk beds, no couches, no cellar or garage. No tables and no chandeliers; no desks and, yes, no chairs. No furniture in here at all – just carpet and some stairs. Let’s pitch a blanket, settle down, tell stories through the night. I’m sorry if you wake up and you back isn’t set right.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 10.20.2017 @ 4:47 pm


You wonder how many of the cracks on your face are from the reflection or from the actual erosion of your features. You know you’ve been literally crumbling away for some time now; you were built from craggy earth and soft clay, after all. Now you see the flesh affected by the weathering of the winds. You are reshaped, reformed.

Your eyes hold up fairly well, though. Agates. Your mother’s pride and joy.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.13.2018 @ 12:24 pm


This is not the kind of life I was hoping to have. This is not the kind of environment I wanted to be a part of. Look – all the people’s faces are blurred. It’s like a camera caught their stare and turned their scared eyes into pixels. They shamble aimlessly about, tripping over divots in the road. I think I might disintegrate into a smudge on a lens, too.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.12.2018 @ 5:03 pm

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