Helium Balloon at a Party
She and a friend were out on the rooftop of another friend’s apartment in the middle of the city. Their party was just getting started downstairs.
The cold air on the rooftop was a good relief from the sweaty heat of the lounge room dance floor. Up there, clusters of guests smoked and laughed and drank beer and the stars were bright. The friend she was drinking with decided he was getting cold and wanted to head downstairs to have a dance. She said she was still enjoying the air, she’d stay on the rooftop a little longer.
Two people she didn’t know noticed her sudden lone-ness and moved over to her. They were funny and interesting and she found it easy to talk with them.
Earlier, her friend had tied a balloon to her waist and the two people she didn’t know were amused by it. The balloon was bobbing along beside her like a little animal and had been funny on the dance floor. Now it was more sweet than funny. Even a little sad, like it was lonely and wanted her attention.
Let’s release it!
Ok! I haven’t done that since I was little.
She untied the gold ribbon. Paused a moment. Smiled to the two people. Let the balloon go.
It slipped up. They watched it rise in silence.
And all the navy night opened. The throng of buildings bowed.
The balloon was a small and yellow god. It moved into the height of the sky with great dignity.
Soon, it was a spot. Then a speck.
I can still see it.
Me too.
They were now whispering in this church they had made.
Instinctively, they knew it was right to be quiet, just as the pipe-organ skyscrapers were quiet. They knew it was right to crane their necks, to strain their eyes, to stand totally still.
And then the speck was gone.
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