The Incredible Lightness of Braaiing

Yesterday at the braai I watched the smoke lifting on swirls of hot air. I thought it was a good idea, so I told myself I was light. At first I wobbled unsteadily, satiated with smoky, fragrant air, but eventually I slowly left the ground. First I drifted sideways, and then I floated higher at a slant. I waved my hands to turn myself horizontal, and studied the ground below. Roofs surrounded by trees made a suburban patchwork, blue and greenish flashes indicated pools. The blimp in shorts and sandals that was me, drifted far below the clouds. People were dots in their back gardens doing Sunday things in their casual clothes. I felt the need to wee, and did. I don't think a single drop reached anybody below – nobody looked up, people rarely do. Note "braai" = "barbecue"