Luxurious by Belinda Roddie We never wanted a luxurious lifestyle, she and I. We wanted a house, sure, and a lovely backyard, and that is what we got. We wanted reliable cars and good food, be it homemade or take-out. We wanted pets - at least two cats - and the ability to raise a family. That's not luxury to us. That's happiness. Late stage capitalism, you frankly can eat all the rotten eggs. All of them. Ugh.

Checkbox by Belinda Roddie If you could please mark yes or no in the checkbox. Yes, there we go. Now, sign there. Then there. Then there. Then up there. Oh, and down there. And in the corner. Left corner. No left. Your left. Not mine. Easy now. Need another pen? I can get one. Ooh, don't sign there. You'll have to cross it out and initial out. Or perhaps we can start over? No? All right, well. No need to get frustrated. I hate the paperwork just as much as you do.

Chatter by Belinda Roddie Outside the coffee shop, the air was filled with chatter, but then again, it was muffled from all the masks people were rightfully wearing. Ted only occasionally removed his to sip his macchiato, and he made sure to snap it back on when anyone got within six feet him. Why? Because he was responsible, god damn it, and a plague was a plague, regardless of political affiliation, opinion, or precious feelings.

Lens by Belinda Roddie Garth had broken his glasses. The lens was chipped, the bridge splintered, and the nosepads absolutely missing. It looked as though he had run a car over them, and perhaps he had, though he wouldn't admit as such. "It'll cost another five hundred out of pocket to replace the fuckers," he groaned. "And I don't have the money." "You also don't have the eyesight to avoid getting them!" his mother argued.

Protect by Belinda Roddie "I'll protect you!" Mona scowled. "I don't need protecting," she growled, pointing at her bicep before placing a white-knuckled hand on the hilt of her dagger. Adner stepped back with his hands up. "Fine. Then what can I do for you?" "Leave me be." The rogue's eye twitched. "Or find me a fair maiden to keep me company during the night."

Ponder by Belinda Roddie How much longer can we ponder over this poor woman yonder? She just wants to drink her tea and eat her scone and be let be. You can be your flirty thirty self and keep your feelings shelved. Your nice guy 'tude is quite revolting, so you ought to try adulting and forget about that poor girl trying to make it through this damn world.

Dried by Belinda Roddie Everything in Janet's cabinet was some form of dried food. Dried fruit, dried rice, dried beans, dried bread. I didn't even know you could dry out bread that much, but there it was. Everything stale and dusty and inedible. I found the phone number for the local burger joint and called in for three cheeseburgers, four chicken sandwiches, and five milkshakes. Three of said milkshakes were for me.

Walking by Belinda Roddie What do I remember from last night? Well, I remember it was cold...very cold. Unseasonally so. And my wife was making tea. I had a sore throat, so she was going to add lemon. Next thing I know, she's walking to the sink to fetch the tea kettle, which I had just washed. And after that...I...I dunno. Everything was...orange. Not even red. Orange.

Lighter by Belinda Roddie First, Craig asked for a lighter. Then, when I didn't have one, he punched me in the jaw. Next thing he knew, he was missing a good chunk of his beard after I had yanked a tuft off of it. "What do you say?" I snarled as I used my knees to pin him down. "Fuck you!" " What do you say, you little bitch?!" I bellowed. "Uncle?" "DAMN STRAIGHT, I'M YOUR UNCLE!"

Break by Belinda Roddie I was fragile - dark porcelain, ready to shatter - but when I did break, it wasn't in pieces. It was like dust. I felt my entire body disintegrate upon impact, and as my soul lifted in a spiral of dirt and mites and sunlight, I suddenly felt freer. Airier. One with nature. Without a heart to sink or a mind to lose.

Swat by Belinda Roddie "Think it'll rain tomorrow?" Cassie snorted. "You serious? It rains never." She waved a blistered hand in order to swat away a stinkbug. Sweat had collected on her upper lip like a wet mustache, yet it couldn't cool her down. "I was just asking," mumbled Patty. She shifted around uncomfortably in her wicker chair, eyeing the now empty pitcher that once held lemonade.

Reboot by Belinda Roddie Watch everything restart, recycle, reboot, be reused, be reduced, be rectified, and be replenished. See the phoenix resurrected, rejuvenated, restored to a new glory because former glory should remain just that: former. You can chuck your old desktop computer out a third story window, but in the end, the code is still imprinted on your forearm like a tattoo. You cannot get rid of your serial number, but by God, you can pretend that you have been refreshed.