Tuesday, April 12, 2016
One Yellow Balloon
When the little girl released the balloon its heart sank as its latex body soared into the air. It saw her surprised, tear-filled eyes for only a moment before it rose above the tree line, above the roof of the deli where the little girl had been eating lunch, above webs of radio antennae and cellular towers, above the flight of birds and the tips of kites, above, above, above. The town below appeared first as a spill of building blocks, then as a simple, brown-and-white blob, nestled in a sea of verdant, mottled green. The gentle gradation of the sky welcomed the balloon, pulling it from blue to white to black. It was a simple spot of yellow against the swirl of the universe, and it ascended to whatever heaven awaited lost souls.