Runaway

On Saturday, I noticed a silver object floating through our backyard – gracefully, lazily. I went to the window to see what it was and saw a star balloon with a flitting white strand passing into the neighbors yard, over the laundry lines and I followed it until it disappeared among the row houses. I’ve never seen an escaped balloon flying so low before. Usually they’re a red dot in the sky, dust spots on a lens. But isn’t that the whole point – to let something fly from your hand knowing you’ll never see it again.
Who let it go and did they mean to? I wondered how far it had traveled and where it would end?
Even if it’s caught by the top tree branch, this balloon has made it higher than we ever expected it to.

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