Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie
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You say that Joey’s dog is ill – you better call the vet. Make sure the pooch has got her shots and lots of gentle pets. If the vet tells you that rest is best, that dog gets the best rest. If her condition worsens, then it’s time for pricey tests. And if the pricey tests yield no new information, well, you may as well have fun with Joey’s dog before the bell.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 04.02.2018 @ 11:16 am
Somehow, I can see right through your scheme. I can spot the face beneath your mask. I can count every scar you’ve collected throughout the years across your thinning skin. They form spider webs rather than constellations – cracks of age rather than strings of stars. You hold yourself upright, but your eyes beneath the plaster water, and not from the heat. Not from the strain. Not from the fatigue that you have brought upon yourself.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.30.2018 @ 10:04 pm
The car’s tires were flat. The car’s windows were broken. The car’s engine was spent, and its windshield was cracked. The car’s brakes were busted, and its stereo was missing. Needless to say, that jalopy wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. No one wanted to touch it. No one wanted to save it. No one wanted to cart it to the junkyard, either. Because the car had a nice color.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.28.2018 @ 7:35 am
They told us that regulation wasn’t necessary for the economy to flourish. They chided us about profits and bottom lines and quarterly expectations. I guess they were okay with the children getting poisoned by their own toys laced with lead. Or they didn’t mind our pets choking on their own food. Or they shrugged as norovirus spread like wildfire across restaurant chains. Or they didn’t care that the pristine lakes in our country gradually mutated into toxic sludge.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.26.2018 @ 7:22 am
Behold, my friends! Here upon the wall, you will see the emblem of the Dolfhagen Clan. See the crossed swords representing the might of this ancient family. Admire the golden ram’s head, its horns proud and tall, for the Dolfhagens need no lion’s head to display their strength and power. Nay, it is the symbol of stubbornness, for we have endured so much in all these years, and yet we refuse to turn away from the onslaught.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.24.2018 @ 11:10 am
Here’s her chance to steal the spotlight – here’s her chance to steal the show. Dance and sing and rock the world and wow the audience in one go. Feel the heat against her back. Smell the sweat – she’s all aglow. She desires to awe and inspire and hopes that you’ll toss her a rose.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.22.2018 @ 9:34 pm
I wonder how much reflecting I can really do without a mirror. When I’m staring at the glass, every blemish is so plainly clear. I can count the bumps that form the constellations on my weathered skin. If only they were bright as stars instead of being ugly as sin. Perhaps I would much rather reflect in front of a murky pond or lake. At least my face would be blurrier, and my self-confidence wouldn’t shake.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.21.2018 @ 9:07 pm
We were all reading a book about a deserted island – you know the one. The one with savage boys and dead bodies and a severed pig’s head. The one with the pink conch and the glistening lagoon and the walls of ocean. The one that crams students’ heads with screams of allegory and then expects them to retain it as part of their daily routine. The one that reminds us of the beast. Of where it is. Of what it is. Of who it is. And it has no snout. And it has no teeth. But it can still bite.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.20.2018 @ 7:43 am
Would you like a cup of tea? Make it mint for you and me. Lemon waits for spring to come. Chamomile just isn’t fun. Tea is good while reading books. Sip your brew, ignore the looks. Hipster cafés are a treat when you sit and rest your feet. The barista has a grin as he serves your mug of sin. Come and have a cup of tea. Make it extra strong for me.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.18.2018 @ 9:31 pm
Please don’t hand me your emotional baggage before we reach the security checkpoint. I already have my own bags to carry, and I’m not sure if I can even make it past the metal detector. I’m so riddled with obsessive metal piercings already that I might miss one while extracting them all from my ears and lips and nose and tongue. It’s everywhere – I can taste the rusted anxiety. Hold your own luggage, weighed down with your sorrows. I am not in the mood to be steeped in your brooding tea.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.16.2018 @ 11:05 pm
Just drink the magic potion, dear and you will have it made. All golds and silvers of the world will at your feet be laid. You’ll wear a crown and have a throne – and a beautiful queen, too. Everyone will adore you, and they’ll always remain true. Just drink the magic potion, dear, and this dream will be yours. I swear it’s not a poison that will fill your blood with spores.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.15.2018 @ 4:41 pm
Please, before you go, let me kiss you on top of your head. Let me embrace you one last time before the tide comes rolling back in again. The shore glitters like silver during nights at this – moonlight has never been such a successful luminary. I want to feel your bare skin against mine once more before you leave me. Once more before you leave me. Once more before you leave me.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.14.2018 @ 9:46 pm
Well, hello, Mister Capitalism, you’re looking cheery today! All fat and rosy-cheeked again, your top hat and tails on display. You stroll down Central Avenue with a grin streaked on your face. You’ve made Wall Street your loyal bitch, and you’ll soon monopolize outer space.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.12.2018 @ 2:23 pm
I wanted to smoke one of my cigarettes, but I didn’t have a lighter. I wanted to drink a pint at the bar, but I didn’t have enough cash for a tip. I wanted to get high on the street corner, but the cops were out in full force today. I wanted to substitute the weed with painkillers, but all I had at home was three ibuprofen tablets. I wanted to just cook my brain with television, but I hadn’t had cable in years. So I just stared absent-mindedly at my cellphone instead.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.10.2018 @ 11:20 am
I hope you like being with a comedian, ’cause I’m all about the self-deprecating humor. Seriously, I’m brimming with it – kind of like a fat glass brimming with really cheap, terrible beer. I’ll lob every single lousy joke right between your eyes, give you barely any time to fake laugh at the delivery before I churn some other gag up from the hot cauldron of my gut. I ought to be touring the States right now; as much as I’m a sloppy riot, I’m probably way funnier than half the performers out there.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.08.2018 @ 7:31 am
I thought I had been properly trained for this. I thought that all the years I spent as a conflict mediator would pay off. I thought I had the experience and mental capacity to handle this particular quarrel. I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
I knew I was wrong as soon as I entered the room. The people facing off: Two older women, both with very gray hair. Both short, frumpy, wearing pinks and purples. And they were wielding switchblades.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.05.2018 @ 12:24 pm
Under the dome of the ancient cathedral, we bathe in the orange glow that comes from the skylight. The skylight turns all gold to fire, all silver to white, all bronze to earth. We wait for the sun to set before we begin our evening prayers. We count the beads one by one, descending from our necks, all different hues and types. We collect the gems of ancestors’ tears, and we bathe in the stars that grin from the skylight.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 03.03.2018 @ 11:04 am
I wasn’t used to this feeling. I wasn’t used to how much it stung, how much it cramped, how much it burned and throbbed and ached. It was as if I had been stabbed, scraped, electrocuted, shot, all at the same time – all while dealing with the fatigue of a marathon. If this was heartache, I wanted no part of it. If this was heartache, then I wanted to cut out my own heart with a dirty knife and peddle it to some other sap who wanted it more.
» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 02.28.2018 @ 11:12 am
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.
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
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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