Comments Posted By Belinda Roddie

Displaying 2,131 To 2,160 Of 2,395 Comments


Jack was switching from a large white pill to a tiny orange pill. He had been told that his current medication wouldn’t be too kind to his kidneys, and frankly, he preferred potential mood swings to the inability to create normal bodily functions.

He sat down for a lunch of cheese and crackers and popped the little tablet into his mouth, washing it down with his can of coke. He could almost feel it fizzing into dust in his stomach.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.11.2012 @ 1:17 pm


“What,” roared my father, “is the meaning of all this racket?”

He was heaving and wheezing in the doorway, his ample frame squished against the frame, as my sister and I sheepishly looked up from where we kneeled on the floor. I still firmly gripped the baseball bat, while my sister wielded the plastic sword and dagger that our mother had bought for her from the costume store.

“The monster came back,” I tried to explain.

“What monster?” barked my father.

“The big green one.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.10.2012 @ 6:13 pm


In the little steel nest lay three small boys, the barbed wire around them threatening to scrape against their exposed toes. They were all blond, though the heavy mud and brush threatened to tarnish the gold bouncing on their heads as the cold winds blew around the debris. One was clinging to what appeared to be the remains of a stuffed bear.

I reached over the wire to touch one boy on the shoulder. He didn’t move.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.09.2012 @ 12:41 pm


We had a chat at the local grocery store after buying sandwiches at the deli. The wind kicked up outside and blew through the gaps in the automatic opening doors, but we didn’t mind. We were strangely enchanted by the atmosphere of such a cluttered, crazed environment. Happy with bits and pieces of small talk over carts littered with random produce and the occasional stack of muffins.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.08.2012 @ 12:13 pm


“This day’s been a grind.”

“Grind…grind. I’ve heard that word before.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have.”

“No,” interjected Randy, “I mean it means something. Like something from my past. Something that’s been haunting me for ages.”

Alan blinked. He was a co-worker of Randy’s at the deli. Not a therapist. “Like…the Daily Grind coffee shop down the street?”

“No,” replied Randy. “Too easy.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.07.2012 @ 8:24 pm


Richard the Twenty-Third signed the treaty that ended the Battles of Montoya and Grinjo. Never mind that the two countries didn’t exist, there were no battles, and that Richard was just a seven-year-old named Ricky playing with toy knights ending a major conflict. But hey, he could be the best diplomat in the future. One never knows.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.05.2012 @ 12:41 pm


Walter was emptying his fifth cup when his ex-wife arrived at the party. Donald had invited her, if only to hear about her latest escapades in Italy. The old man had become so fascinated with the atmosphere of Venice that he decided not to remember the fact that Walter and his wife had very painfully divorced.

That is, until he saw Walter crushing his plastic cup into a wad in his periphery vision.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.04.2012 @ 12:03 pm


As Terry pulled the baseball cap over his bushy crop of hair, he strode out into the sunlight of the stadium, guided by the rough but careful hand of the team’s coach. The crowds were cheering only for a moment before the boy strode to the microphone. He would be the youngest person to ever sing the Star Spangled Banner at that stadium – a five-year-old with the voice of an opera star.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.03.2012 @ 4:30 pm


“Is it really that big of a necessity to make this rocket fly?”


“To Jupiter?”


“Where there is absolutely no landing dock?”


“And no way to travel on foot, because it’s a freaking gas giant?”


The physicist calmly eyed the gleeful newcomer. “And yet you still want to be the first man to walk on Jupiter?”

“Yes, sir,” said the newcomer. “I defy physics!”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.02.2012 @ 12:40 pm


The convict had confounded us with his cryptic commentary before, and with a crusty upper lip caked with courageous calm, he coughed out another call for chains to be cut from his criss-crossed calves. “Can’t you see I’m changing into a cadaver?” he carefully cried.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 06.01.2012 @ 6:00 pm


“This won’t be a hassle?”

“Nah,” chewed Rodrigo, nomming at the bent cigarette that was turning to liquid ash in his mouth. “No hassle. No pressure. No mess.”

Dr. Simeon leaned forward against his desk, his bad knee shrieking against the wooden frame. “You’re sure?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rodrigo lilted. “We can do this no problem.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.31.2012 @ 12:19 pm


The reporter watched in horror as the pinnacle of steel and shining glass toppled overhead, debris in large flaming chunks descending upon the packed metropolis. As the blue planes overhead screeched and hollered with their gunfire, the poor journalist could not keep calm on national television. Not like this. Her bosses were mad to send her into this war zone. Absolutely mad. And no bulletproof vest could save her here.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.30.2012 @ 12:01 pm


As she plotted out the architecture in blue and white prints, Rosanna was beginning to feel the onset of preliminary exhaustion in her muscles. She leaned back from her desk, shoulder blades squealing in protest as they rubbed against the cushion of her swivel chair.

The mayor wanted the plans for the new city hall by tomorrow. Rosanna was beginning to wonder if she could ever get it done.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.29.2012 @ 12:41 pm


I was thinking up a rather snide dilemma for the two-year-old chihuahua that was crying from its window just two houses down from me. My husband told me not to mess with the poor puppy, but when it was yapping like its ears were on fire, I just couldn’t help but draft a plan to shut it up by forcing cookies down its throat, but that solution would serve only to be temporary. So as much as I tried to be evil, I just couldn’t manage it, so I pet my big labrador and slept with my red head upon his back.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.28.2012 @ 12:05 pm


As the old man transformed into a dashing blond youth right in front of our eyes, I gaped at the flower which honeysuckle had re-nourished the blood and rejuvenated the bones. No more deep, vicious wrinkles, replaced by ruddy, puckering lips and pink flesh. Stubble dotted the clean jaw where the white wisps used to be. And as the cane fell from the man’s hand, he danced and skipped as if he had been given the energy of a jackrabbit.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.27.2012 @ 7:21 pm


Grandmother always liked to rant about how the bad tap water in our town had stunted my growth. Given that I stood at a meager 4’10” at the age of twenty-nine, I understood why she’d have a conspiracy theory. But the truth was, it was just the way I grew. And it always made it fun when I challenged my thirty-two-year-old husband to a game of hide and seek.

I always won. Hiding under the stairwell.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.26.2012 @ 11:53 am


“Where’s my leading lady?” cried out Stewart Marx the Third, brandishing his empty champagne flute like a knife as the crowds of black tuxedos and silvery gowns pulled away.

She was on the stairwell, left hand delicately caressing the banister – as the tradition always was at the ballets and the operas. Show them off, everyone said.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.25.2012 @ 12:10 pm


As Harriet bent down to retrieve the scrap of paper that had flown out of her empty backpack, she recoiled at the sound of laughter. The three most popular girls in school – Lucy, Lisa, and Leslie – were all skipping toward her, pointing at her.

“Getting your letter from your boyfriend?” they teased before dancing away.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.24.2012 @ 11:52 am


We settled into a small “log” lodge just on the outskirts of the ski resort, its pseudo-rustic appearance giving way to pseudo-comforting interior design. Plush green couches, a bristling fire with a overly fur-bedecked mantle piece (making me worry that the hairs would be set ablaze, though they’d burn out very easily), and a small table with lukewarm coffee to drink.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.23.2012 @ 12:26 pm


Mister Rivera had to closely monitor his sugar intake after seeing the doctor the other day. He had first gone in for a simple check-up on a rather nasty sunburn on the top of his ear – the skin on the lobe had bubbled up somewhat into a strange, lightning bolt-shaped blister, and he wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to get worse. Instead, after a very precarious blood pressure reading, he was being given pamphlets on diabetes.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.22.2012 @ 12:21 pm


“It’s time for you to go on a quest!” barked the cloaked man to the girl dressed in light bronze armor, who crinkled her brow in bewilderment.

“Erm…what quest?”

“The quest…” the man let the words hover in the air like scattering dust, “…of greatness!”

“…Uh,” said the girl, “mind being a bit more specific than that?”

“Oh, for the love of – it’s a quest. You go on a quest. it’s awesome. What more could you want?”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.21.2012 @ 12:51 pm


Someone is calling your name. You don’t know who it is. You don’t even know if he’s calling you in particular. It could be someone else with your name. It could be anyone else with your name.

He stands on the sharpest outcropping of rock, several yards away from you, among the muddle of tourists that has crowded around where he stands. Below are the falls and rapids of the Yosemite wilderness.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.20.2012 @ 8:09 pm


“What are you going to do with that pile of books?” Mom asked me as I sifted through the various papers lain across my desk.

“Build a bookshelf for them?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know how to build things?”

“Sure, Ma. Max does. Ricky does. I do, too.”

“And you’re sure you want to keep them?”

“Ma,” I protested, “I love reading. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane during my work hours.”

“Besides Lucy.”

“Yes, Ma,” I smiled. “Besides Lucy.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.19.2012 @ 12:47 pm


First base, second base, and third base were all loaded – by red-skinned aliens. Not from Mars or Neptune or anything like that. From far away, where they had a literal World Series (not like us. We have a U.S. Series. Why don’t we call it that?).

These bad boys were facing the New York Yankees in the semifinals of the intergalactic round of baseball. There were no high stakes. No threats. We were just playing ball. And the aliens rocked at it.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.18.2012 @ 12:06 pm


The backspace was covered in dust on his computer. “Delete” was “d——” amidst the gray. In all of his life, typing away at his scripts, stories, and poetry – he had never, ever deleted anything.

The same went with typos, too. His poor editor had to go through pages upon pages of screwed up language and vocabulary, because the man refused to go back and edit anything he mistyped.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.17.2012 @ 12:25 pm


Joey had dreamed of a bittersweet romance. Not a succulent one. Like eating dark chocolate without a gooey cherry center. Or caramel. Caramel, to her, was the epitome of overindulgent sweetness. Like asking your tongue to wrestle for glory against a swamp of sticky kisses.

She sat down at the café with a black coffee and a croissant. All butter. No sugar.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.16.2012 @ 12:25 pm


“Start your engines!” the pubescent announcer squeaked on the makeshift intercom as the tiny little automobiles revved up. As Bobby McFinn lowered his helmet, he did not notice his father beaming from the crowd of bystanders waiting for the race to begin. Boys and girls from nine to thirteen years old all prepared for the competition, vehicles splashed with colors and stickers and stars.

But Bobby did see Jessica Bonnet at her sleek black racecar, giving him the thumbs up.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.15.2012 @ 1:30 pm


A bright blue insect which I could not identify nestled itself in between the wall and my oak desk. Its wings appeared to be like crystal, drops of sun sprinkling across its reflective sheen, bits and pieces of rainbow foundation scattering about my white walls. I wanted to retrieve a book of mine and see what its name was, but instead all I could do was look at it over my stream of notes.

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.14.2012 @ 12:41 pm


“Please disregard the obnoxious woman in the back,” said the bedraggled professor as the thirty-something-year-old student glowered at him behind horn rims. “I’m trying to discuss physics. There is no room for religious argument.”

“Why did we even get on that topic to begin with?” asked Sam.

The professor shrugged. “No one likes to be proven wrong.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.13.2012 @ 12:39 pm


I was lending a hand to a little boy who wanted to reach a box of Wheat Thins on a very tall shelf in the local grocery store when I saw Harry limping down the aisle. He looked much more leathery than before, as if the sun had taken his face out to a barbecue and marinated it was thick, sweet sauce. His pupils noticeably dilated even from a distance, but he seemed to recognize me.

“Well,” he said with a wispy laugh. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

» Posted By Belinda Roddie On 05.12.2012 @ 12:32 pm

«« Back To Stats Page