Balloon

    The sun shone gaily over the cheerful little town, casting a warm, cheery aura over the locals under its warm rays. The deep azure of the sky was unblemished by cloud. Only one orange fleck marred the perfect scene, but it hardly diminished the overall merry disposition.

    Orange as dusk’s golden rays, the balloon bobbed contentedly, oblivious to the tainted world in which it existed. The wind played gently at its string, which so recently had been clutched in the hands of a little child, only four years of age. The child had cried out when a particularly strong gust had torn her floating prize from her grasp, but, ignoring her troubled calling, the balloon drifted away into the sky.

    No mundane hands chained the balloon to the dreary earth now. Free as a bird in its newfound liberty, it gushed toward the sun in a sudden updraft. Warmth coasted over its rubbery skin as the glowing yellow orb nearly doubled in size.

    Miles above the face of the earth, the balloon sailed on a gentle breeze. No harm could reach it there. It was free.




BWAHAHA idk. My mom was reading one of my stories and got upset, saying, "Why don't you ever write anything happy?? All of your stories are so depressing." I said, "What would you suggest I write about?" and she said, "I don't know…write a story about a happy balloon floating through the air!" So I did, and it was incredibly boring. Never gonna do that again.