The little yellow balloon soared through the sky, It was set free when a small child let go when a loud noise scared her. It kept going up, and up, and up, and up, and up.
There's something so calming about the loneliness of such an existence, so far away from anything, all alone, but still looking down. I wish my life could be like that.
The balloon kept going and going and going and going, until eventually the air pressure outside of the balloon was greater then inside of the balloon caused it to pop. All gone.
Oddly enough the popping of the balloon was a tragic event to millions of lives. Weirdly enough if you'd believe that. But when the sun blows up millions of people seem to have had a problem with it.
Hi Sam, This short short story got my attention. The first three stanzas are especially poetic. The short sentence structure and quick pace combines with the imagery leaving the impression of life as gentle, fleeting and unnoticed. The third stanza provides a conclusion of the balloon popping and maybe the narrator’s drifting away from the world, people or himself. He seems to get lost or to want to distance himself from his life as it is.
ReplyDeleteHi Sam, This short short story got my attention. The first three stanzas are especially poetic. The short sentence structure and quick pace combines with the imagery leaving the impression of life as gentle, fleeting and unnoticed. The third stanza provides a conclusion of the balloon popping and maybe the narrator’s drifting away from the world, people or himself. He seems to get lost or to want to distance himself from his life as it is.
ReplyDelete