These girls know freedom and live without fear in homes unlocked in daylight and darkness. These girls, almost ten, untethered from the glare of television, from the backyard fortresses we’ve built in the States, bound after a single gray balloon, following wherever it leads, until it can carry them no farther. These girls return with the noise of a church full of people, telling of the “tragedy” of the balloon’s demise. Standing at the bus stop, I can still hear them pursuing a new blue one into darkness.
This is a picture of the season Fall. It is also a monster.
This is a spelling race; we were spelling words like: winter, storm, cold warm, lightning, snow. The green team won.
shewhodaresnothing 