CHILD:
Tears streaming down her face, leaving behind trails of dirt. A silent open mouth leads to a long wail, head tilted back. It comes down to short sniffles and heaves. When they look up, they see the red latex tangled in the tree and we start again.
PARENT:
Soothing words and a calm voice are released from the parted lips. Their large hands moving vertically on the child’s back give her an “it’s ok” feeling. Promising to get a new one, they finger through the loose coins in their back pocket with the other hand. Hope she forgets before we leave the park.

TEENAGER:
Such an attachment to that red balloon with the smilie face, using it to flirt with that blonde girl. Too bad he let go. Now he’s laughing about what an idiot he is for not tying the reflective ribbon to his hand, fearing it might be gay. His friends laugh and point at the bobbing balloon, a float above the dancing partygoers.

ADULT:
While thinking of excuses of why he is holding a helium balloon, because a stranger might tap him on the shoulder and question him, he wraps the cheap ribbon around his finger. It unwinds and slips off, up into the sky. But it gets caught on the sign, the No Parking sign. And he is standing under it, pretending he never even had it in the first place. He walks back to the nearby playground to watch his daughter on the monkey bars. No balloon, no worries.