Friday, April 20, 2012

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.