In the window of a car before me propped up on its own
volition and buoyancy lay a mystery.
What holds its wrinkled soul in the stagnant air within an
Was it a forgotten memory of a happy celebration or did it
just drift in by some hap hazard breeze that came along on a not to sunny day.
Parking my car and eventually stepping out to get a better
look at the sad piece of inflation ,that was once probably a colorful
display. I think about what it had been
Going back in fourth within my brain, I hoped for the best
for the little Mylar display.
But after exploring through the glass at its wrinkled
surface, I knew it was on its last breath and I felt sad, until I eventually
spotted a woman and a girl of about seventeen, and I overheard the older woman
say as she opened the back of the vehicle, “It’s time you took your balloon
from your graduation to your room before it falls onto the seat and we forget
The girl nodded and I heard the word, “Okay.”
I smiled to myself and continued to the store with the
satisfaction of knowing that at least the fate of the sole balloon was a good