Yellow and White Balloons

My car wasn't starting. So I cancelled everything. I was glad to be rid of all those plans. I walked east on Glen, past the car dealership and the church bell that had been being replaced the last two days. I picked out the cheapest schnapps at Sam's to tied me over till I got to Jesse's. I stopped at the park for a smoke in some shade. I hadn't broke a sweat in three or four weeks. The other Jesse was laying in a patch of dandelions. She always looked up at the sky. And she would use her hand as a visor over her eyes. She bit her bottom lip too. We used to share some friends. I lost all their numbers. I'm confident to say they lost mine too. They had all left and I thought Jesse had too. She wanted to know if I had a knife; she was going to go pop all the balloons down the street but left hers at home. I gave her the pocket knife I found camping five or six years ago. That day comes back to me every few months. But I don't miss Jesse. And I don't miss my knife. Or the park. Or Sam's. Or that car. But I miss those balloons. The car dealership never replaced them. It closed down two months later. I stopped carrying knives. And drinking schnapps. And day dreaming about old friends. I just want to see all those yellow and white balloons float away again.

Tuesday

Some paint had splattered onto my face. It must have been three days old. Some had fallen off in bed, wrapped up in five sheets to make up for the missing comforter. The box with all the other bedding was in the other truck. Which was with the new roommate crossing one of the Dakotas. I deleted the message before the details were processed. The gist stayed on my shoulders for weeks.

I've painted the mailbox three times already. In third grade I heard an Indian girl talk about how the color of your mailbox related to the type of mail you would receive. Past due notices and invitations to salvation piled up. I changed the color and they kept coming. But Yellow brought a garden catalog. And Blue a book about map collecting. I left the notices to pile on the ground and stacked the invitations on the wiper of my cars windshield. After the garden was planted, and the pictures of maps used to label the flowers and vegetables I painted the mailbox gold.