Huff. Huff. And blow out. Repeat.
The air transfers from one balloon to another. The balloon stretches. It gets larger and larger. The elasticity is almost at its full potential. The air is hostage inside. The red color looks almost pink near the top. The man ties the balloon off at the bottom and attaches the string. The child grabs for the string eagerly. A band marches by.
John ties the string around the child's right wrist. A slipknot should do it. The line is taught as the air mass bounces above in the air. The child sings out in glee. John smiles widely and the parade continues.
The child becomes anxious. She starts playing with the knot around her wrist. The politicians stride through. The knot becomes loose and the balloon reaches upward. The child does the same as the thread snakes out of her grasp.
Against the bright blue sky, the red balloon disappears from her beady sight. As it rises above the millions in the city square, the pressure around it increases. The air needs to escape. It cannot continue this way anymore. The elasticity the air once pushed out is not giving way. The insides are wet with moisture. The outsides are cool with temperature. The pressure continues to build. The balloon rises. The string follows. The child reaches.
PoP!
The balloon rains down on the crowd. The children pick up the pieces off the roadway and sidewalks. They pull and stretch their pieces and then toss them back on the walk home. The adults shake their heads of the litter and continue on their way also. She collects the pieces she can. If she can get enough of them, she can piece the balloon back together. Right?
John sees her dismay and buys her a new balloon. This time it isn't red. She hopes she can hold onto it this time! Looking up she misses her red balloon. The blue sky isn't the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment