Red Balloons

I had this dream. Where everyone was standing single file and walking off the edge of a plateau. I watched men, women, and children step to their own demise. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters. No thoughts occurred to them. They followed order. This young boy in front of me was holding a red ballon. He said nothing and kept his head down. I looked around and everyone was empty handed. Just like myself. They walked and fell. No stories to tell. Everyone followed suit. He marched on without a word. Sound never escaped his lips. He knew he was different, but didn’t understand why. He tried letting go, but yet he still clasped to the string. It was almost our turn. To take that step of faith. And, in that moment, as he stepped to his impending doom, he was lifted by that f***ing red ballon. I woke up. F*** red balloons!

Comments