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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 18, 2018

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Submitted: February 18, 2018



The older man had many balloons around him. They floated near him and he would marvel at their beautiful colors and how they kept afloat all around him.


“What are those?” someone asked as they came upon him and saw all the colorful balloons near him.


“Oh these” the older man said. “There are things that make me happy. That one is humor” he said, pointing at it.


The other person standing near him looked at that balloon and then looked at the older man and nodded.


“And that one is my dreams” the older man said as he pointed at another balloon.


The other person looked at the balloon he had pointed at and then looked back at the older man, nodding again. “Interesting” he said. “And those?” he asked as he pointed at some of the other balloons floating there.


“Oh those” the older man said. “Those are are Hopes, and visions. Aren't they beautiful?” he asked as he smiled over at them.


About that time another person walked by. He glared at the colorful balloons and reached over to pop one with a needle he happen to have. The balloon “popped” and fell to the ground. The stranger walked off, laughing at him and his balloons.


The other person standing there looked concerned. “Oh that is too bad. That person has popped one of your balloons” they said.


The older man smiled. “Not to worry. Often people will come along and try to pop your balloon of happiness or dreams or hope” he said. Even as he was saying this another balloon suddenly appeared out of no where and floated back into the place the popped balloon had just been.


The other person looked in awe and then looked over at the older man. “How is that possible?” he asked.


“We control our balloons. Not other people. Lots of people will try to make us lose our dreams and our visions and our hopes. They may even make one go away for a while. But ultimately we control our balloons. They are ours to do as we wish, not others. And you will noticed they are not chained to the ground. They float freely” he said and smiled. “That person that tried to pop my balloon is a pessimist. Some are called “critics”. Some are called “haters”. Some are even called “so called friends” he said. Others are called “realists” and they feel it is their place in the world to bring us down to earth and so they will do whatever it takes to achieve their goals of bringing us down to their level” the older man said.


The other person standing there listened intently as he looked at the colorful balloons and then looked back at the man.


“But I have learned that in the end they aren't here for me. They are only here for themselves and often times they are simply jealous because I possess these wonderful balloons and they do not. It's a shame really, because anyone can possess their own balloons of happiness and hopes and dreams and visions. Anyone can make them appear around themselves and make them stay” he said. “Anyone” he added.


The other person nodded as he turned to slowly walk away, thinking about the older man's words. As he did several balloons suddenly appeared out of no where around him.


The older man smiled as he watched him walk away.

© Copyright 2018 Jim Green. All rights reserved.

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