A Red Balloon

She sits alone, cradling her knees, watching the dappled
clouds shift position. A pastal sky of couple colour changing shape
above her. The grass waves long, yellow fingers in the breeze that
tickle her legs and arms and she pushes her toes into the white sand,
scrunching up her face and giggling.

She spreads her
arms, opens her eyes and falls onto her back, the sky spinning
clockwise over her head. She can't see the sea now, but she can hear
it, almost close enough to lick her toes it seems. All she can see now
is the shape-shifting sky and the grass around her head that strokes
her face. The breeze catches her long dress and it folds and flaps and
flows. She does nothing to hold it down but smiles to the sky and
begins to sing, &;quot;You and I in a little toy shop, buy a bag of
balloons with the money we've
got...&;quot;

&;quot; ...The president is on
the line, as ninety-nine red balloons go by...&;quot;
The
sun is setting when she brings herself to her feet, and she stands
there watching, listening for the sizzle as it dips into the sea. She
smiles to Autumn's sky in summer and turns to walk, humming a tune to
herself as she walks towards the cliff.

The sun is bleeding
into the horizon and into the ocean when she reaches the top and seats
herself amongst the rock and sparse grass, shivering and shaking and
whipping at her arms and legs in the wind. There's a bench behind her,
but she cradles her knees and watches the sun dying from the ground. A
tear escapes her eye and she smiles, singing quietly to herself as the
sun sinks lower and lower, &;quot;Ninety-nine dreams I have had, in
every one a red balloon. It's all over and I'm standin' pretty, in the
dust that was a city...&;quot;

She climbs to her
feet as the sun disappears and the first stars begin to open their eyes
and wink candidly at her. She strolls slowly towards the cliff,
climbing over the wooden poles that create a barrier and balances on
the edge. The wind catches her long dress, making it fold and flap and
flow all around her. She does nothing to hold it down, just smiles and
continues to sing, &;quot;If I could find a souvenier, just to prove
the world was here...And here it is, a red balloon,&;quot; she
pauses as she looks at the still glowing horizon, &;quot;I think of
you and let it go...&;quot;
She spreads her arms, closes
her eyes and falls forward, the sky spinning anti-clockwise over her
head. She can't see the sea anymore, but she can hear it, so distant
and soothing it seems.
All she can see now is her husband's
face, a face that she loved and cherished for fifty years, and she
smiles as her long white dress folds and flaps and flows in the rushing
wind, as she falls into his arms...