Untitled Balloon story.

The other day I was cleaning up and found an old notebook. Inside I discovered an old story I wrote that I seem to recall was part of a writing challenge I had with my wife.

We each wrote a story about being a balloon.

Here is my story.

Untitled Balloon Story

In the trees the birds sing.

In the park the children play.

Lovers walk hand in hand.

It is truly a wonderful day.

A gust of wind blows. It carries me gently as if on angel’s wings. I drift with the clouds, high in the sky.  In the distance is the Ocean. The blue waves smiling and playing, beckoning to come play a game.  I settle on the beach instead. The sunset falling into the Ocean bleeding red across the sky.  The trees sway with the breeze. I like it here. I think I'll stay.

Is this a dream?

As I remember, not long ago I was flat, deflated and lifeless.  The breath of life surges through me. Then again. The sensation is truly astounding.  I am being pulled and stretched from the inside; being formed. 

I have been given life!

The breath of life continues to transform me from nothing into being.  Each breath fills me until suddenly there is no more. I am complete.

Instinctively I begin to drift toward the floor. Looking up, I see the hands of a small child reaching to me.  Before I touch the ground I am picked up.  The child’s smile fills me with joy. I realize my purpose. I exist to provide happiness. The expression on the child’s face tells me I have succeeded.

Across the room sit the child’s parents.  They watch their child with loving adoration.  I feel attached to them somehow.  Perhaps it is because our intentions are the same?  To provide happiness?

“Be careful with your balloon Sarah or you’ll lose it” the father cautions.  The mother nods her agreement.  Young Sarah looks puzzled not fully understanding the warning.  She wanders into the kitchen, the mother not far behind.  I can feel the ground rushing up to meet me as I am dropped.  Bouncing off the floor I come to rest by the door.  Sarah passes a glance over me as her mother prepares a light snack.  Looking over my surroundings I see a well finished kitchen. Walls coloured softly, clean and neatly kept.  This kitchen gives me the feeling of love and warmth. Of many meals prepared and enjoyed.  Of conversations held and many family moments enjoyed.

Lost in my thoughts of new family I am shaken to reality by the door suddenly opening. The motion of the door propels me toward the open space beyond. I don’t want to leave just yet. I am powerless and cannot resist. I must go where the wind takes me.

A young man enters the kitchen. As he enters, I leave.  I leave the house, the kitchen, the comfort of a family I was just getting to know.

A child makes a noise.

A mother turns.

A son apologizes.

All too late.

I can sense sadness inside the house. Have I failed in my duties?

I reach toward the young man who reaches out to me. We do not touch. I am being pulled away too quickly. I have no chance to say goodbye to Sarah. 

In the yard the wind is strong. I have no opportunity to rest and to take in my surroundings.  Try as I might I cannot get back to the house. My attention is broken as I am tossed about. Up in the sky, down on the ground in and out of the trees. I think about what I have left behind. Safety. Love. Comfort. My first, best and only friend Sarah. The new found freedom scares me and yet, somehow exhilarates me.

I float on the wings of angels. High amongst the clouds.

In the trees the birds play.

In the park the children sing.

Lovers sit in each other’s arms.

It truly is a wonderful day.