Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie
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Let’s make a blanket fort in the living room. Let’s set up thirteen Christmas trees, string up so many lights that we’ll glow like a multicolored sunrise. Let’s build a gingerbread house, laughing at the fact that we certainly couldn’t be architects in the real world, but hey – gumdrop roofs are a great aesthetic in Winter Wonderland Real Estate. Then let’s make tea and cocoa and watch the classic films again and again.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.22.2018 @ 5:36 pm
I knew it was Marvin’s ringtone that was going off. I knew it was his because it was the same five second loop of an obnoxious song turned into an 8-bit pseudo-orgasm for his video game enthusiast ears. I heard it, and my fists clenched as I stood on that stage, sweating through my tweed suit, eyes narrowed.
My actors stared at me. It was as if they, too, understood how much hell I was about to unleash.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.21.2018 @ 9:29 pm
Salt and pepper, garlic powder, and also an orange glaze. That’s how I season the Christmas ham that I serve on the holiday. The sweet and savory settle sharply on my wandering tongue, and then I decide to propose a toast to peace for everyone. Then of course, we all get roaring drunk and sing carols off-key. I hope despite the dissonance, we live in harmony.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.20.2018 @ 7:55 pm
I thought that I would try a number of jobs once I got out of college. And I did – I tried out marketing and advertising. I tried out retail. I tried out banking. I worked at a Renaissance fair over the summer selling swords and axes and pretending I understood Shakespeare. I even decided to busk for cash, playing an old guitar of my father’s with two missing strings. Somehow, I still landed two hundred bucks one night.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.19.2018 @ 12:34 pm
Please, love, I don’t want to cause you any harm; just drop the broken bottle, where you sucked away the remains of your father’s soul, and no one will be hurt. See, I’m armed with silver and brass – the breastplate beneath my shirt repels every single touch. I miss feeling your skin against mine, though, before it started to burn.
I don’t want to see you injured, or worse, killed, my love – but we are running out of time.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.17.2018 @ 6:09 pm
“Somehow,” Alex smiled, “I had a feeling you liked jazz.”
He reclined on the large easy chair in Melanie’s living room, listening to the sliding notes of the saxophone on the stereo. Melanie rolled her eyes.
“I was raised on it,” she explained. “My dad was a trombonist in a big jazz band. He made sure I learned piano and never stopped listening to the classics.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.15.2018 @ 11:25 pm
I didn’t know if I should send her a letter, or fire out an e-mail, or try to communicate with her in any other fashion. All I knew was that I was madly in love with her, and the art of confession was not an easy one to master.
I wound up saying nothing, stewing over my feelings, if only to make sure she was happy. She was married, anyway, and my stepping in and spilling my guts would have been more harmful than beneficial. I said nothing for six years. And after those six years, after her divorce, she asked me out for a drink.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.14.2018 @ 10:01 pm
Sometimes, we went out. And sometimes, we poured out our thoughts over the occasional drink, spilled our guts like lime juice squeezed into a Moscow Mule, reminisced on what we pretended were better times. Sometimes, we walked until we couldn’t see the street lights anymore, and it got so dark that you couldn’t see your hands in front of you unless the moon was out. And we would listen to the tide. That cold, swampy tide, etching its love letters in calligraphy on the seaweed-strewn shore.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.13.2018 @ 10:19 am
Are you feeling like a cup of tea? How about espresso? There’s nothing like a caffeine kick to make you feel just so-so. Just sip the brew and sing the blues and don’t worry about Nancy. She’s off with Sean and Joe and Bess and trying to be fancy. I’ll pour you a tall mug of java, make it a bit stronger, so your heart can beat a bit faster, last a little longer.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.09.2018 @ 2:02 pm
We were builders once – constructing an empire out of mere shadows, which, once they collected lights, became monoliths of their own reckoning. We forged alliances with angels who wore celestial swords like talons on their hips, and so we crashed upon the chasm of Hell with chariots raging with fire. But then we were dismantled; piece by piece, we were segmented and relocated, and now the deconstruction is complete, and the realm is riddled with never-ending holes.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.07.2018 @ 8:49 pm
“Hey, you two look like you could be twins! Are you two related?”
I force a smile and lean my back against the cold glass of the bus stop, while my friend Jessie keeps looking at her phone. It’s true that we could be mistaken for cousins or even siblings, but twins? That just seems a bit too much.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.06.2018 @ 10:19 am
They told me it would be easy. They told me it would be fun. They told me I had the support I needed and I’d definitely get this done.
They lied to me – it was nightmarish. They lied to me – it was Hell. They lied so harshly through their teeth that it sounded like whistling bells.
Their words will never comfort me; they do not meant a thing. And before everything goes mad, I plan on escaping.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.04.2018 @ 6:52 pm
I stopped by Paul’s Crimson Oasis for a tall glass of black coffee. He told me all they had was water, and suddenly, I really was in a desert of my feelings. Still, a little lemon and licorice was enough to make even H2O pleasing, and I hopped back in my T-Bird with a full thermos and practically pedaled my way to Ferris’s Foyer for a glass of sherry and an espresso.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.03.2018 @ 8:55 pm
I knew that he was alive somewhere. Alive, heart still beating, intact – not in pieces like that blasted “Tell-Tale Heart” by Poe. Still, if I had to be like that denying mad protagonist, I would be. I’d rip up the floorboards myself, stretch the skin along my cuticles, rip out the nails and keratin that were my only bridges to sanity.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.02.2018 @ 10:25 pm
Everyone started freaking out when the “new Titanic” was being built, but frankly, given the trends of climate change, I don’t see it hitting an iceberg any time soon. Because…you know…the icebergs are melting. So it’ll be pretty smooth sailing.
I’ve always been fascinated by boats, so this news was definitely up my alley. Perhaps I’ll sneak my way onto the vessel if it ever gets finalized.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 12.01.2018 @ 9:57 pm
I feel as if an invisible barrier holds me back from the treasure chest. I can almost smell the pine of the wood, catch a glimpse of gold beneath its heavy lid. I want to hear it creak open so badly. But my palms are flat against glass I can’t see, and the reward I desperately desire just sits there, taunting me.
If only I had a sword or an axe or a chainsaw. But then again, I think this is all impervious to physical weapons.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.30.2018 @ 5:26 pm
I never drink coffee, but at night, I’m wired. I hate afternoons ’cause I’m always tired. I manage a store where the best are hired, with the wife and the little baby boy I sired. Now time to eat my tiramisu – I like the coffee flavor, just not the coffee brew.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.29.2018 @ 8:17 pm
We went for a bike ride around my old university campus and took a tour of downtown, where I could see that the Rustic Coffee Stop had been replaced by a quaint, purple-tinged cupcake shop, and the diner where I also got a grilled cheese and tomato soup had been remodeled and was now serving way more customers. We stopped for a drink of water, our foreheads warm and wet with perspiration, and my friend turned my attention to the nearest street corner.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.28.2018 @ 6:30 pm
I didn’t like the way she handled her new job. In truth, she had never deserved to get promoted, especially not over me. She ignored important tasks, disrupted our work flow, and cut corners all the time. And when we called her out on it, she’d turn into a maelstrom of denial and rage.
“I am the boss here!” she shrieked one day when I so much as questioned her on a slew of typos in a quarterly report write-up. “I am the boss! And don’t you forget it!”
That night, I checked on the Internet to see if I could murder my superior for being a toxic waste of space.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.27.2018 @ 12:41 pm
Joseph tried to steer the boat, but Joseph had no sense of direction. So Joseph wound up sailing us east instead of obviously going west. I guess Joseph had no real sense of direction or knew where exactly the sun set. So we wound up sitting on an island eating raw crab, because Joseph was inept at everything, including managing a vessel on the ocean.
Oh, well. At least Joseph was handsome. And very effective at sexy times in a makeshift hammock.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.24.2018 @ 10:39 pm
In retrospect, I know that I probably shouldn’t have done any of the things I did over those crazy five years. I probably shouldn’t have said the things I said, kissed the people I kissed, believed the things I believed. I know that. I’m just…not sure how to handle the fall-out. Or figure out how I can move forward.
But I’m here. And I have a job and an apartment. And I own a super awesome cat said Rodrigo. So I can’t complain, really.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.23.2018 @ 8:14 pm
Luckily, as we were driving up the mountain, none of the hell stories told about the weather came into fruition. There was no heavy rain. There was no hailstorm. There was no blizzard or flurry or even one speck of snow. Sure, it was cold, but I enjoyed that. I enjoyed seeing my breath float in front of me like a new, ghostly friend. I enjoyed the look of the cabin we stayed at – like something out of a fairy tale, or a picture book from the 1800s.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.20.2018 @ 7:18 pm
When my in-laws came over for dinner, we brought out the fine china and the nice silverware. We got the rose-bedecked tablecloth and lit candles and did all the cheesy stuff you’re supposed to do to “impress” anybody. When my wife told me what the menu was, however, I nearly had a heart attack.
She blinked. “My dad loves them. And don’t worry – they’re FANCY turkey burgers.”
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.19.2018 @ 1:22 pm
I tried to get into the university I wanted, but I was denied without so much as a second glance. I knew it was a long shot – the graduate program that the school offered appeared only to have room for the best of the best, the crème de la crème – and I happened to be the equivalent of skim milk when they were looking for custard. I was ready to give up on a master’s degree entirely.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.17.2018 @ 9:55 pm
Frankie stayed at my bedside the entire time I was ill, holding my clammy hand and singing to me as I faded in and out of consciousness. I had strange dreams, mostly consisting of abstract shapes and bubbles that carried me to a shoddily drawn house on a crayon landscape. It was as if my mind had been melted like wax, and the last memories I had were of things I had created as a small child in art class.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.16.2018 @ 8:50 pm
“Want to share a milkshake today?” asked Lacey, as we huddled together under the elm tree just outside school.
I shook my head. “Sorry,” I sighed. “I’m broke. I can’t even afford a cookie from that shop right now.”
“Okay,” said Lacey, smiling. “My treat, then.”
I tried to protest, but she squeezed my hand in defiance.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.15.2018 @ 8:13 am
I think I should have missed school, but I didn’t. I sank down into my personal oblivion before nine AM, and I tried to write my in-class essay, but I couldn’t get any English out. It was like I knew no languages, understood no dialects or even single words. When I fell asleep in math class, I dreamed of chaos spun like sugar into stars. I can’t really describe it in any other way – fever dreams are just sort of like that.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.13.2018 @ 4:22 pm
Watch me fly, you non-believers – my wings will flex and ripple like the arms of the sun above my head. I will touch each cloud and wash my sins away in the suspended water. I will descend to the oceans below and let my fingers dance across the foam. Then, I will perch atop the highest mountain, where it is cold and my breathing is shallow. And I will watch the world as its only pure observer.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.11.2018 @ 4:21 pm
Samantha didn’t need the nightlight on after she turned nine years old, but somehow, I always think she was somewhat afraid of the dark. She didn’t leave her room much when the sun had set, even when she was a teenager. If she hung out with friends, it was in the afternoon or inside, where the lamps were bright and the whole house hummed with glowing activity.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.09.2018 @ 1:01 pm
Back To Stats Page
“How would I have to do,” you asked, “to get a make-out sessions with you at the Sixty Shades Motel near my house?”
“Find a better hotel,” I grinned.
You laughed at that, pouring me another glass of cheap red wine. All things considered, it tasted better than the fancier stuff I had tasted with my parents the day before. We were eating sirloin steak – good sirloin. With barbecue sauce.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 11.07.2018 @ 4:01 pm