Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie
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“Tell them the truth!” snarled Cassie.
“Tell. Them. The. TRUTH.”
Bart said nothing at first. When he finally did speak, his voice was low and subdued. “I was responsible for the fire.”
Cassie shook her head. “Louder, Bart.”
“Louder, so they can all hear what you have to say.”
“I was responsible for the fire,” repeated Bart, but only a little louder this time.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.16.2017 @ 2:12 pm
Let me deal the cards, but first, I’ll shuffle the deck. I let the kings and queens and jacks leap into the air in an arc, in a black and red rainbow between my fingers. I cast each noble and peasant out so that they’re tucked between your fingers, and in the end, you’ll no longer be able to tell which will grant you victory and which will be your downfall.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.16.2017 @ 2:13 am
It was another night to dance; it was another night to waltz. We kept up with the time signature as much as we could. We counted in threes, and only threes. Your black shoes left black scuffs on the white floor. The hems of my white dress grew black around the edges from dirt and dust and shadows.
When the orchestra stopped playing, we stopped and collected ourselves. Perhaps we were now too old for waltzing.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.14.2017 @ 2:33 pm
“What does this mean?”
“What the Hell does this mean?”
“What does what mean?”
“THIS!” He angrily thrust his essay in my face. The red pen stood out like an angry sneer, the letters legible and clear as it presented his failing grade. “What does this mean?”
I blinked at him. The fingers twitched on my right hand; I felt them do so. “What does an F mean?”
I gaped at him. “How long have you been in school? Figure it out.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.13.2017 @ 12:39 pm
There wasn’t much for me to see along the mountain range, or hear. Just the occasional scuffle of my boots and the distant echo of coyotes or other beasts who were probably lonelier than I was.
I settled down on the eastern flank of Mount Veil, helping myself to cold beans out of a can. I was too tired to build a fire, and while the temperatures would drop soon, I’d be able to brave it without the use of flames.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.12.2017 @ 5:27 pm
I knew who was standing outside before I even heard the door bell, and once he was standing in the doorway, I had my shotgun loaded and ready to fire. He was wearing a poorly fitted blue suit, the hems of the jacket going all the way down to his knees. He has holding, for some reason, a box containing a half-eaten pizza.
“Hey, man,” he grumbled through a mouthful of pepperoni. “Can I finish this before you shoot my brains out?”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.11.2017 @ 2:27 pm
Here are the shapes of valleys and mountains. And here are the curves of lakes and swamps. I create the texture with just my gaze – smooth, flat, sharp, and scarred.
Here are the colors of sunsets and moonlight. And here are the colors of curtains and wine. Somehow, it all goes to red and black, and somehow, all of the shapes morph to circles – around and around, without any end.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.10.2017 @ 12:19 pm
Shannon blinked at me. “Dude.” She pointed at my character sheet. “You elf is seriously misaligned.”
“And why’s that?”
Brennan, who played a dwarf paladin, wrinkled his nose. “What’s wrong with a chaotic evil elf?”
“They’re peaceful!” Shannon cried. “They’re serene and calm and level-headed!”
“Hey, Shannon?” Carly, our dungeon master, piped up. “Maybe let the elf lady go crazy on the goblins’ asses, okay?”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.09.2017 @ 11:37 am
Noah acted concerned, but I knew he wasn’t; his dark brow was furrowed, like a sleeping caterpillar, but nonetheless, his real feelings were more similar to glee rather than worry. As he watched the cashier get cuffed and dragged out of the grocery store, he turned his head toward me.
“So…did he find meth on him, or weed?” he asked.
I stared at him. “Neither.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.08.2017 @ 4:56 pm
No matter how much you beg and plead, no matter how much you cry and scream, the knife will stay stuck in your head. The real world still is not a dream. Ability to speak is gone. Ability to blink is gone. Ability to shriek is gone. Ability to think is gone. You wish for one more “second chance.” Just one more chance. Just one more chance.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.07.2017 @ 1:35 pm
There was much to be done before the holidays – lights to hang up, presents to wrap, tasty sweets to consume. I had bought myself a box of candy canes to stick into mugs of hot chocolate for some friends of mine, and while sitting at the glowing fireplace, I realized that, for the first time in a long time, I was content. I wasn’t overjoyed, ecstatic, or overly energetic – but I was content. And that was enough.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.06.2017 @ 12:58 pm
There was no hatred in her voice. There was no malice in her tone. Yet there she was, and here I was, observing her upon her throne. She did not speak evil to me. She did not plan to do me in. Yet there she was, and here I was, repenting for my biggest sin.
She said to me, “Alas, poor soul. Not sure if you’ll be growing old.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.05.2017 @ 8:08 pm
I don’t believe in the righteous ones: They always end up wrong in the end. They always lie and cheat and steal, and they always harm the women. The righteous ones are ugly both inside and out, and they know it, too. They wear suits in order to hide their black and twisted hearts. They drink champagne so the bubbles ease the pits of wrath in their stomachs. I don’t believe in the righteous ones; they were never righteous to begin with.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.04.2017 @ 3:05 pm
“I’d love to go to the party now,” barked Helena from the other room, “but it’d really help if the zipper wasn’t stuck on my jacket!”
Emma laughed and sighed before entering Helena’s bedroom, where her friend was struggling to move the metal bastard up and down without success. Emma let her fingers dance across the front of Helena’s beautiful leather jacket, the blue hue matching her freshly painted fingernails.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.03.2017 @ 11:16 am
Hello, good friends, in red and green! We welcome you to this Christmas scene. Please, stay a while, sit by the tree. Enjoy the sweets and company. Carol sheets are on the table, beside the nativity stable. Cocoa and cider are prepared, and snow is falling everywhere. Our gifts for you are wrapped in gold; this holiday never gets old!
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.02.2017 @ 12:48 pm
“I don’t think anyone wants to be ignorant,” Erika pointed out to the group, waving a fork loaded with potatoes as she spoke. “They just happen to be so. They’d rather just believe the things they do because it’s comfortable. It’s cozy. I had a college roommate – really sweet girl, liked to play piano – who was convinced that gay people were secretly out to turn her gay. Convinced. And I could never talk her out of it.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.01.2017 @ 8:43 pm
Come with me to the waterhole, and watch me take a dive into the deep blue abyss. I’ll let you know if I see any fish or shiny stones or dead bodies decomposing against jagged banks. I’ll reemerge and find you sitting on the shore of pebbles, counting each tiny shard in your palms. You don’t know how to swim, but you sure love to watch a swimmer, especially one like me.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.30.2017 @ 2:27 pm
We still had leftover turkey from Thanksgiving, so we got out the bread and starting slathering the slices with mustard and mayo. As I reached for the cheese, however, I heard a deep, almost slobbery breathing beside me. I looked down, and lo and behold, there was Jowls the bulldog, trying to jump up to the counter where the turkey waited to be sliced.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.29.2017 @ 5:17 pm
I never though I’d break her winning streak; I never thought I’d snatch victory from her beautifully chiseled jaw. She stood next to me, drawing in air as if she were drowning in it, red-faced and red-eyed and oh, so close to screaming. I knew the gold medal around my neck would be heavy – it always would be. But now, as I witnessed the mental breakdown of the defending champion, I wondered just how much it had been really worth.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.28.2017 @ 2:23 pm
Come meet us by the swimming pool, and afterward, we’ll play a game of pool. And after that, why not chip a few dollars into the growing pool so we can afford to keep our swimming pool full? Look out – Steve is going to crush that eight ball, and my Magic Eight Ball says that your billiards outlook is not so good. C’mon, throw some bucks into the pot – it’s for a friend, after all!
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.27.2017 @ 2:53 pm
And just what does the victor get? What exactly is her prize? She’s exhausted, feels defeated, despite being tantalized. A victor feels defeated! What irony is this? Come, hand her this sweet plastic trophy – temporary bliss. Perhaps we’ll get a picture of her husband and a kiss. The spoils will be arriving soon – there’s nothing to be missed.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.26.2017 @ 6:55 pm
You have entered the second floor of the Ridley Complex. Once in the lobby, you will instruct the receptionist to leave her desk and walk into the closest quarter office, not to be seen or heard by anyone. Once he or she has departed, you will then operate her computer to root out where the stash has been hidden in the building. We predict that it will either be on the seventh floor or the twentieth – but any guesstimate risks failure.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.25.2017 @ 11:49 am
I ate the last popcorn kernel in the bowl, even though it was crunchy and stale – I was just that hungry. Then I licked the bowl clean, and my cheeks and chin wound up coated in butter and salt. My mom didn’t like how messy I got, but hey, everyone had already devoured the Thanksgiving leftovers, so I had to scrounge for something, and my allowance wasn’t showing up until December 1st. So I washed both my face and the dishes and resolved to snatch a twenty out of my mom’s purse for a burger later.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.24.2017 @ 6:01 pm
Attention, everyone! Attention, everyone with turkey in their mouths and mashed potatoes still lumped on their plates! This is your drunk uncle Max with a major announcement. And that announcement is this: I am boycotting pants. I repeat: I am boycotting pants. Pants are the devil’s garments, and my loins shall be free! Free, you hear me?!
Wait, Rita. No, don’t lock me outside! I’m not done with my stuffing yet! Rita, no!
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.23.2017 @ 2:16 pm
The soldier fell in love with the general, and the general fell in love with her. They both knew it would be forbidden, so they met in secret on Vane Hill, just as the sun crested over the top before making its descent. They held hands and kissed under the same elm tree, and every day, the general would promise to end the war as quickly as she could, so they could both go back home, build a cabin together, and live happily ever after.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.22.2017 @ 12:35 pm
“And what are you supposed to be?”
Rachel blinked. She stared down at her notepad, then back up at the senator, who was shooting daggers at her. “Um…I’m a reporter, sir. From the Times?”
The senator scoffed. His enormous wrinkled jowls quivered as he sneered at Rachel. “Well, here’s your sound byte,” he growled. “You can take your precious little newspaper and shove it right up your – “
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.21.2017 @ 11:49 am
I hadn’t seen this particular relative of mine in quite a while: My Uncle Tobias, who had transitioned seven years ago, and who had sobered up after decades of trying to lay down the booze. Now he was standing in front of my house, a full beard around his jaw, holding a pumpkin pie.
“Thanks for having me,” he said in a voice that was lower than mine – which was rather impressive.
I smiled and escorted him into the kitchen, where my mother was still working on the mashed potatoes.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.20.2017 @ 9:13 pm
She blinked slowly at me. “You seem so…different from what you were before.”
I shrugged. My shoulders felt so small in my father’s leather jacket. “Well, I’m definitely different,” I replied. “I guess a lot of things changed.”
“For the better?”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “For the better.”
She stepped toward me then, her breath rising in small white bursts in the cold autumn air.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.17.2017 @ 6:17 pm
I’m not exactly sure what to make of her now. This version of her is different. This version of her is new. This version of her has capabilities that can’t be reached by anyone simply constructed from link upon link of carbon, chains wrapped around wrists and ankles, holding us down from progress. This version of her can hold her breath underwater for hours – can run faster and longer than any man or beast – can make love to me throughout the night, while I gasp and bellow for air that I can barely digest.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.16.2017 @ 4:37 pm
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“No! Come back here! Thieves! THIEVES!”
The police were on the scene in only two minutes, as the little old lady who ran the tiny drugstore on the edge of Main told her side of the story. Apparently, in her words “three hooded hooligans” had run into her store and taken off with about five pounds of king-sized chocolate candy bars.
“Am I hearing you correctly, ma’am?” asked a puzzled officer. “Five pounds?”
“Yes!” exclaimed the little old lady.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.15.2017 @ 5:00 pm