Balance Beams

A boat sails by, tossed by the waves and the wind of the storm. Cracker Jack is a favorite snack of kings and queens in England and Austria. Garbage cans bring Esophageal cancer to Native American beer drinkers in summertime at the supermarket. Soliloquy singed album walkers flow silly mopeds in geranium cookie jars. Bouncing balance beams commiserate slyly on inebriated cauliflower pizza crackers.

The Cube: Ch. 6, Billah

I lifted my hand up and stroked the wall. The wall rippled and a warm glow emanated on the walls. “That’s more like it,” Rolph said. “Billah is happy you have chosen to get along.” “I haven’t. I just wanted to see what she would do,” I said.

The Cube rocked back and forth. I looked outside and saw that the man on the tractor was pushing against the cube with the tractor. “I guess I need to let him know we’re okay,” I said. “I’ll tell him,” said Johnny. Johnny ran up the stairs and popped his head out of the hatch. “Wayne!” he said. “We’re okay! Don’t hurt the cube.” “Okay,” said Wayne, the man on the tractor. “Glad you are alright.”

“Would you like to come inside?” Johnny asked. At that, a door appeared on the side of the cube. “Sure I would,” said Wayne. “I’d like to know what makes this thing tick!” The door opened and Wayne walked right in. “Wow!” he said. “This thing is weird!” “It’s a living thing, Mr. Wayne,” I said.