Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie

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There are no bandages for ruthless language. No easy way to tear off stickers plastered to your forehead. And the funny thing is, the people trying to wash the ink right off their arms are re-applying the sticky stuff to the biceps, elbows, and shoulders of those they want to label in their own way.

People are not meant to be compartmentalized unless they decide to pack themselves that way. On that same note, they cannot compartmentalize anyone else.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.12.2012 @ 4:57 pm


“So you really think you could be my life coach?”


“My adviser?”


“With no setbacks to your mentorship whatsoever?”

“Of course.”

“Then why in God’s name aren’t you wearing any pants?”

“Alan, Alan, Alan…since when were pants a pre-requisite for being wise and experienced?”

“Since I had to see your – “

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.11.2012 @ 4:53 pm


“Can I make a suggestion?”

“No,” Parker snapped. “And if you continue to talk to me in that condescending tone, so help me God, I will use my pocket knife to cut out your tongue.”

Dennis shut up pretty quickly, and I swore that I saw half a dozen faces in the classroom lit up with satisfied sneers. I had always liked Parker as a professor, and today, he was no exception against the snobby students.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.10.2012 @ 3:47 pm


Howard had a 1963 Chrysler turbine car sitting in the cobblestone driveway beside his cobblestone home, and it hadn’t been driven since the year it was made. He made good use of it as a lawn ornament, allowing the green to grow around its hubcaps like braids on a rubber man’s head.

I had wanted to drive that car so badly, but I knew it wouldn’t be in good shape now. I wouldn’t have been surprised if its engine had turned entirely copper from rust.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.09.2012 @ 6:03 pm


At Billy’s feet was a bucket that waited for any standard level of spew to reach its rim. He was sitting upright in his bed now, head lowered so far that his chin nearly touched his chest. To his left, his brothers were sleeping soundly, the ale not seeming to have affected them nearly as drastically.

“I need to brew myself something to help my head,” Billy thought to himself, as he tried with an enormous effort to stand up and walk properly.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.08.2012 @ 1:49 pm


“I’m bringing back overalls,” Carla stated proudly, twirling around and showing off the flared denim.

At the table in the cafeteria, there were mixed reactions. Simon stared as if Carla was infected with some horrible illness. Tasha just sipped her drink. And Max looked simply ecstatic.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.07.2012 @ 12:02 pm


Crystal couldn’t believe it. This was the fourth time in a row that Mrs. Prehistoric (actually Mrs. Presley, but the T-rex arms and the scaly skin said otherwise) had given her detention, all for giving her a “bad look.” Delinquent? Her? It was ridiculous. She just wanted to read her Thoreau and Emerson and whoever and get the Hell out of the way of everyone else.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.06.2012 @ 8:13 pm


A girl trying to figure out a science clue on a crossword while drinking a cider and eating a slice of four cheese pizza is trying to pet her oh-so-eager-for-scraps dog with the big toe on her left foot. Only she can’t reach his head, so she ends up stroking the excess fur and skin gathered around his neck, which she and her family lovingly call a wattle. The dog does not seem to mind.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.05.2012 @ 5:21 pm


When Gary wanted to buy a brand new modem, he went to the largest corporate store to get it. But when he got for about forty dollars, it wouldn’t connect properly. And when it wouldn’t connect properly, he called the corporate tech support. When he called the corporate tech support, he was greeted by a low, silky operator’s voice, and he promptly fell in love. And after he fell in love, he found the tech support vicinity in Houston, Texas and asked the stout woman out for dinner.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.04.2012 @ 1:02 pm


The railroad tracks had been there longer than I could ever imagine, but no trains rolled on it these days. Not since the fire choked the station with its smoldering fingers and dragged the wooden splinters into the dirt. The frame was strangely intact, but inside, it was gutted. Completely gutted.

No one had attempted to bring the trains back. And as such, I intended to travel south on those abandoned tracks.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.03.2012 @ 5:28 pm


It was a difficult burden to harness, but we knew it was the right thing to do for Eddie. We dragged out all of the things he owned from the ramshackle cottage in which he had lived for half of his life. Mattresses, chairs, stools, tables – even an “old-fashioned” chandelier that looked like it had been bought from a flea market – were all tossed into the yard, ready to be literally axed and burned.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.02.2012 @ 5:52 pm


“It’s not the size of the ship,” protested Max, “it’s the motion of the o – ”

“I’m not letting you finish that.” Without skipping a beat, Harold turned to look at me, his eyes melting in the light of the cheap-looking chandelier. “So, David. How are your mozzarella sticks?”

I swallowed a bite of congealed dairy and nodded. “Very mozzarella-y.”

“I protest,” Lucy joked. “They simply must be cheddar-y!”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 07.01.2012 @ 3:57 pm


The enormous mansion on the upwards slope of the street always gave you the chills, whenever you went outside to skateboard or shoot hoops in your precariously inclined driveway. The stone lions were the worst of it. Their stony eyes had no pupils, no color – a simple blank stare into a world that not even you were ever familiar with.

But today, you are going to be brave. You are going to walk up to that mansion.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.30.2012 @ 1:25 pm


Saturday was the big day. The moment of wonderfulness. For lack of a better word. Yasmine was ready for it. The dress was picked out, the flowers arranged, the cake baked and tiered. Even the photographer was on standby as she twirled around in her room. She felt like a kindergartener again, giving a dandelion to a boy and asking her to marry him much to his disgust.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.29.2012 @ 3:54 pm


She only liked eating the crusts on pizza, going on the swings in the park, and looking only at pictures of particular cats. She liked calicos the most, but she didn’t find Siamese felines to be particularly noteworthy.

“I want a calico some day,” she said to me as I was vacuuming the living room.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.28.2012 @ 1:36 pm


The configuration on the computer had gone completely awry, the display screen flickering in and out between a picture of a Jack Russell terrier and a shot of my boyfriend and me on the beach. As I fidgeted with the spazzy mouse, my dad came over and nudged me in the arm.

“Here, hon,” he muttered. “Let me see what I can do.”

“Dad,” I said, “you know less about computers than I do.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.27.2012 @ 1:21 pm


“Excuse me,” asked the man with the large, misshapen nose. “Could you tell me who the distributor of these DVDs are?”

I blinked. “Um…the same guys who saw to the production of the movies?”

He was staring at me quite intently now, perusing my blue polo shirt and my khaki pants. He pursed his lips and his bulbous snout twitched.

“So nothing has been pirated?” he demanded.

“Why on earth would a corporation like us carry pirated goods?” I asked.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.26.2012 @ 6:57 pm


There were five different kinds of soups ladled out on the round, majestically carved table of mahogany. The first was a light broth, decorated with a rare noodle here and there. The next two were cream soups – potatoes floating like debris in one, mushrooms sleeping soundly in the other. The shrimp bisque looked fantastic and colorful, the butternut squash one bright. The last, however, looked the oddest – and was a dark blue.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.25.2012 @ 2:00 pm


After the boy had planted the seeds, the tomato vines grew so serpentine that they snaked their way across the fences of the neighborhood. Soon, Grant awoke to find enormous red delicacies awaiting him from the corner of his house, dripping with the prior night’s rain, their canopies thick and dark.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.24.2012 @ 3:00 pm


Alex was still dwelling on the past hour, the second hand mocking her with its nagging black finger as it danced across the grandfather clock beside the couch she had collapsed onto. That hour, where she had been nestled between her two sisters, being told the news.

“Your father won’t be living with us anymore.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his wife and kids. It was that he didn’t love women.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.23.2012 @ 11:43 am


“Hey, Samantha?”

“Give me a minute, Mom.”

“Samantha – ”

“Just a minute!”

But she only moved closer to her daughter. Her cellphone dangled limply from her left hand, a foreboding chunk of black impending doom.

“It’s your brother, Samantha.”

Samantha didn’t look up from her computer.

“He’s in the hospital.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.22.2012 @ 9:03 pm


“It seems that you received various simple fractures up and down your left arm. Which leaves me with one question.”

“Yes, doctor?”

“What did you do, have a hammer precisely crush each spot from your elbow to your wrist?”

I blinked. “No…it was just a game of piñata gone bad.”

“I see,” the doctor muttered. “Happy Birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I grinned, waiting for him to wrap me up.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.21.2012 @ 12:55 pm


The persons settled in the parlor were far different than the guests I was accustomed to on a weekly basis. Many of them were far older, yet they harbored a youthful glazed look in their eyes as if setting a jewel in deep, thick oil. Their teeth were battered but flashed with a childish mirth. Their beards thick, their cheeks still red and ruddy like a schoolboy’s temperamental face.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.21.2012 @ 12:41 am


“This is the pits.”

“Relax, Andrew,” I murmured. “Just another hour and then we can head home.”

“I don’t know why we have to do this. I mean, just because Daniel told us to doesn’t mean – ”

“I know, but just…do this for a friend, okay?”

I readjusted my binoculars as Andrew kept his crouched position behind the juniper. Sarah was leaving the restaurant soon. With who, we didn’t know yet.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.19.2012 @ 5:49 pm

“This is the pits.”

“Relax, Andrew,” I murmured. “Just another hour and then we can head home.”

“I don’t know why we have to do this. I mean, just because Daniel told us to doesn’t mean – ”

“I know, but just…do this for a friend, okay?”

I readjusted my binoculars as Andrew kept his crouched position behind the juniper. Sally was leaving the restaurant soon. With who, we didn’t know yet.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.19.2012 @ 5:47 pm


“I’m not particularly keen on rare steak.”

Mrs. Hammers dolloped on the bloody slabs of meat anyway, staining Caitlin’s plate a bright mosaic of red and pink. I swished around my scalloped potatoes and kept close focus on Mr. Hammers’ furious mouth.

“Kids these days. They want their steaks well cooked, they want their eggs over easy…where did we go wrong?”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.18.2012 @ 4:11 pm


The thin framework of the movie’s plot was depressing, to say the least. Nothing was cohesive. None of the motives matched. And as I cast my eyes toward the director and writer, who squirmed in his seat as if with excitement, I didn’t really know what to say to him.

“Well?” he asked as the credits began to roll. “What did you think?”

I didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t left with much. No characters to remember. No storyline to recall. Nothing had stuck.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.17.2012 @ 2:05 pm


“Let’s talk about Sandy,” said Gregory, as he poured me another glass of Riesling.

The sweetness of the wine was able to reduce my headache somewhat, and I paused to rub my temples with two of the fingers on my left hand.

“What’s there to talk about?”

Gregory didn’t change his expression. “You haven’t spoken to her in four days. There has to be a reason why.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.16.2012 @ 1:14 pm


The mayor of New Hagenbergersteinbeckersmith was pleased to see the erection of the new statue idolizing the great German pioneer who had founded the town. Nestled right between the tiny post office and the grandiose hot dog and bratwurst restaurant, it was meant to gleam in a great bronze glory over the town. It didn’t help, therefore, when vandals painted penises on its face and sent the mustached politician into a murderous frenzy.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.15.2012 @ 12:45 pm


Inside the dank cathedral, two children prayed. In the courtyard along the sinister turrets, a gardener planted roses. Beneath his feet in the basement, a ceremony was starting.

The vicar was dressed in blacks and reds. The deacons all in whites. They would wear the dark stains of those who felt the dagger in the colossal man’s hands.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.14.2012 @ 1:17 pm

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