Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie
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Otto had the money to invest in the stock market, but Alan was hungry and wanted lobster tail – and ONLY lobster tail – for the next two weeks. He kept trying to swipe Otto’s dough, but Otto was quick and keen, and he knew exactly how much his best friend was pining for overly pricey seafood. So Otto locked the money up in a chest and delivered it to his uncle, Martin, who invested it in the comic book industry. Otto’s rich now, and Alan is still hungry.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.11.2019 @ 1:27 pm
I know what you’re thinking, and yes – I know we look similar. We may not be related, but the hair is the same hue of red, the eyes the same shape and color. Our freckles settle like dead stars in the same constellations, and I know that freckles are compared to stars so damn often, but that’s what it seems like when we stare at each other – like holding a mirror up against the night sky. We are in the same solar system, swiveling around the same sun.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.08.2019 @ 10:21 pm
The birth of the prince turned the entire kingdom upside down. Of course, this was before she made clear that she was a princess, not a prince, and the king doted on this little baby as if she were a beacon of light radiating from the heavens. As she grew older and became more feminine, it seemed that the king found her glow to be dimming. It was not easy living in that castle.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.07.2019 @ 6:20 pm
Watch how, on the island, everything is green. See how the wind makes all of the palm trees sway. They want us to call this utopia, but the taste of scant fresh water and undercooked fish is not something I’ve adjusted to in all the time we’ve been here. The chief is fat with white hair, and she directs us all to wade up to our knees in the waves of the ocean. She makes us pray that a god I don’t believe in will save us.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.06.2019 @ 11:03 am
Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. First of all, why are they jumping? And second of all, why are they on the bed? Who let them into the house? Aren’t they supposed to be in a zoo? And why only five of them? They shouldn’t all be little, either; they should be with their mother. She’s probably worried sick, chewing on a banana in a canopy somewhere.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.05.2019 @ 12:40 pm
“How’s she looking, cap?”
Captain Bossam didn’t mince words, nor did she attempt to appear stoic or without feeling. Her eyebrows were creased in a near permanent scar of concern.
“Hate to tell you this, corporal, but…it’s pretty grim. I don’t know how much longer she’ll last.”
Corporal Eisoff stared. This had only been a slight wound in the leg; now it was a dire injury?
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.04.2019 @ 11:07 am
You and I, we connected on a beyond a molecular level. We established something deep, something broad – like developing new spines under water when the pressure was pushing into our backs just right. We made new shapes out of our tongues, and eventually, we communicated with God. But God was sleeping in the sand on an island north of us, and his skin was charred from the lightning that grew fingers in the summer storm.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.28.2019 @ 9:28 pm
Willa left her father’s fleece jacket in the dryer overnight, but when she pulled it out the following morning, the fabric was still warm. She held it gently, fingers caressing the flannel pattern, before inhaling and smelling all the familiar smells. The sticky odors of tobacco and cheap whiskey. The aroma of bacon and chive scones that he always got at the café in the morning. Her mother’s perfume. Amazing how much it all lingered.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.27.2019 @ 7:18 pm
Joseph wanted to become a paramedic, but he could never pass the fitness test. And trust me, he tried everything – diets, shakes, daily trips to the gym. Pumping iron, running on the elliptical machine, even learning how to kickbox. But no matter how hard he tried, his arms had the consistency of penne pasta.
“You’re just a wimp,” his girlfriend said to him when he moped about it one night. She soon became his ex-girlfriend after that.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.25.2019 @ 10:58 am
I knew I shouldn’t drink the entire bottle of red wine that my mother bought for me in one sitting, and I knew I shouldn’t eat all the chocolates my boyfriend got me in one sitting, either. But I was definitely tempted. I staved off the urges by having my roommate hide the wine and candy somewhere I couldn’t find them. And boy, did he nail the hiding spot perfectly.
“Yeah,” I laughed as he handed me the goods a few days later, “I wouldn’t touch your underwear drawer with a ten foot pole.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.23.2019 @ 9:28 pm
When I said I didn’t want mustard, I got a burger that was practically smothered in it. Hell, I didn’t even have to pick it up to see how much the stuff ran down the sides. The waiter was pretty indignant about it, even though the chef came out and tore him a new one because he had written “extra extra extra extra mustard” on the order. I don’t know if the little brat got fired, but the replacement burger I got was pretty great. And to prove a point, I stabbed a random mustard bottle a few times with my fork.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.21.2019 @ 4:23 pm
Visibly perturbed, the boy in the yellow jacket and red baseball cap shuffled off to the side of the street, where he sat cross-legged on the curb, rubbing at his eyes repetitively and obsessively. It was safe to say that he wasn’t simply startled by what he had seen, but in fact, he had been quite affected, even disturbed, by what unfolded.
It wasn’t just the car crash, seeing the sedan fold in like fiberglass origami. Or hearing the scream.
It was also seeing the ghosts rise from the wreckage like plumes of cheap cigarette smoke.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.20.2019 @ 12:52 pm
Everyone likes to tell me that I’m brave, and frankly, I’m wondering if they’re just talking to the wrong person. I lack courage, kind of like how a desert lacks water, or space lacks oxygen. I just don’t see myself as heroic or bold or daring at all. In truth, I’d rather just hide away from the world, holding in the folds of book pages and pretending that I don’t exist.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.18.2019 @ 9:59 pm
I wanted my self-esteem. I wanted control back. I wanted to harness all my pent-up anxiety like a horse and save it for later, for something more productive and less damaging. I wanted to actually love my job again, but it was so hard when I was picturing scratch marks all along the walls, and angry words directed right between my eyes, like blunt bullets. They wouldn’t leave a hole or puncture, but they could certainly bruise or dent.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.17.2019 @ 8:52 pm
Jerry and Tabitha had been going through a rough patch, after over seventeen years of marriage. Jerry was unhappy at his job, Tabitha couldn’t stand staying at home, and their efforts at having children, for what seemed like ages, had been fruitless (pun intended. Thanks, Bible). So Tabitha had gone to visit her parents, and Jerry, much to my “surprise,” was crashing at my pad, drinking my beers and playing my video games once he got home from another long shift at the grocery store.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.16.2019 @ 11:20 am
I am the reproductive offspring of artificial intelligence and a sad mother, who cradled a broken robot in her arms at the end of the world, who kissed its head and wept until the tears filled a small room, who whispered all her secrets to a processor that was no longer processing. I don’t walk; I float. I run code, and I am immortal. I have not seen my mother since I emerged from her womb, fully uploaded.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.14.2019 @ 1:57 pm
3:35 PM. I board the metro at Larson Station. Sit myself between two dilapidated benches because then that way, no one can turn me into a people sandwich. I find my last working earbuds and pop them in, and soon, it’s symphonic metal for the next seven stops.
I’m on this train for a long time. Being a commuter blows.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.13.2019 @ 1:57 pm
We ate everything in sight, drank until our chalices were dry. We practically licked our plates clean before Madam Zucker took them away for washing.
When dinner was finished, we sat in the living room, knitted, and recited our prayers. Then, one by one, we went off to bed. Still, while I slept soundly, I learned the next morning that my sister had had uncomfortable dreams.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.12.2019 @ 6:43 pm
Take the plane from your hometown airport to the Big City and find me on the island with the single tower in the middle of Hope Bay. You’ll have to take a ferry there, or you can kayak, though given the weather and the currents, I wouldn’t recommend it. Once you reach me, we’ll sit cross-legged together until all the lights go out in the buildings in front of me, and we can pretend that it’s night forever.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.10.2019 @ 11:01 pm
Day Thirteen: 2:56 AM. Found a spare bottle of hairspray in the downstairs bathroom. I wasn’t aware we had any left. Stuff’s been expired for about three years, but maybe it’ll still work. Mama Schmidt has been super depressed about the lack of volume in her hair, and this just might be the perfect appeasement gift.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.09.2019 @ 10:49 pm
Hello, friend. It’s been too long. Where would you like to meet? Would a cup of coffee suit you, or would you rather get something to eat? It’s a Friday night; the restaurants are packed. Perhaps we’ll grab something small. And we’ll wine and dine where the moonlight hits the perfect angle of your condo’s wall.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.08.2019 @ 11:45 pm
Tim felt like he couldn’t leave his job because he didn’t want to lose his benefits. But at the same time, his job had impacted him so negatively that he needed to use his health benefits to survive. But if he left his job due to the toxicity of it, he’d lose his health benefits…that he was using because of the toxicity of his job.
Thank God he didn’t drink to cope anymore. He swallowed a mouthful of ginger beer straight from the bottle and grimaced.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.07.2019 @ 7:17 pm
Sometimes, I wish I could relive my own wedding – all the colors and the music and cheering as I kissed my bride, and we held our hands up triumphantly in the afternoon light, fingers woven together, hearts now intertwined. I’d love to go back to days in which I felt warm, and calm, and safe – when little demons weren’t gnawing at my stomach and heart, and I could keep food down easier, like the amazing catering at the reception.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.05.2019 @ 7:11 pm
Feeling helpless is akin to drowning: you feel the water rise up to your lips, and when you breathe in, all you taste is salt and seaweed and all the life that somehow flourishes in the deep. But you can’t inhale water. Your lungs fight you, and you’re left to gasp and splutter and kneel on the cement. Everything is cold in your mouth.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.04.2019 @ 9:52 pm
Michelle Ferris’s popular book was adapted into an Oscar-winning film, which was adapted into a novelization, which was adapted into an HBO mini-series, which was expanded by other authors in sequels and companion novels, which was ultimately criticized for going too far beyond the source material, which was eventually lost in the sands of time, but meanwhile, Michelle Ferris was keeping to herself in her small cottage on the edge of New Mar, writing something entirely new.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.02.2019 @ 9:04 pm
“This was supposed to be premium value.”
“What was?” I asked with a sneer. “The cheap steak, or the even cheaper bubbly?”
“Honestly, cheap bubbly is way better than cheap steak,” remarked Cassius from where he sat in the corner, caressing an empty bottle of what used to be red wine. “Don’t ever go cheap with red meat, man. It’ll f***. You. Up.”
“PREMIUM VALUE!” screamed Martha.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.31.2019 @ 8:56 pm
To find joy in cinema – to feel laughter press its fingernails deep into your stomach, hurt you but at the same time uplift you – to hold back tears when tragedy strikes. You know, deep down, that it’s all fiction – all part of the great screenwriter and director’s plans. But now you just stare at a screen, and the people talking in front of you are simply silhouettes of loud static.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.29.2019 @ 9:54 pm
Maybe I should have been a starving artist. Maybe I should have tried out theater, or art, or photography. Maybe I should have risked dying young from lack of health insurance and just lived vicariously through cheap fast food, thrift store clothes (not because I’m trying to be cool), and crashing on friends’ couches. Maybe I should have been a creative mooch. Because this other life ain’t cutting it for me.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.28.2019 @ 8:11 pm
I offer my servant a drink. She takes it gladly, sips slowly, savors the tartness of the nectar as it works it way down her throat and into the abyss that is her stomach. She sighs as it settles. Then, I offer her my seat. She takes that gladly, too.
She is beautiful in the sunlight from the window. She lies prone on the divan, feet bare, shoulders also uncovered.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.27.2019 @ 4:54 pm
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You want the scenery to be pristine. You want it to match the foreground, make it pop, make it stand out in more ways than one could originally perceive. Because of this, you can’t decide on a backdrop. You’ve tried all sorts of colors and patterns – physical, digital – but none of them seem to match the hue of his eyes. Or complement the shape of his jaw. Or pronounce the curl of his lips as he smiles with another secret hiding behind his tongue.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 01.26.2019 @ 10:03 am