Balloon Boy
- Drona Manchanda

- Jul 1, 2022
- 3 min read
A boy in an orange skintight jumpsuit, stretching from his head to toe, floats in mid-air. An orange tint on his face. A peaceful smile stretches across his face.
Above him and below him is nothing but air and an orange sky and ground that stretches to infinity. He lightly moves his feet rhythmically to propel himself. There is no effort as no effort is needed.
*
We find him floating still, his back to the sky, no floating. His eyes open almost on cue as an oval shape emerges from the ground, rising slowly. A tired look on his face, he clumsily tries to sit up in the air. Doing two complete backflips before he ultimately lands on the platform which came to meet him. The platform lightly vibrates which makes the boy sigh in relief as it massages him. From the platform a mechanical arm, also orange, erupts with an apple. He opens his mouth, and takes a bite from the apple brought to his face.
An expression of discomfort on his face appears. He spits out the apple, annoyed. Sensing his mood, the arm retracts and comes again with an orange. It spins to peel it. A second mechanical arm comes and pulls a single slice and feeds the boy. The frustration turns to a smile. He swallows and opens his mouth again. Gradually he finishes the entire orange.
Fed and happy now. He stands on the platform and stretches his legs. He crouches and then jumps. He isn’t floating anymore, he is flying. Like superman he tries to reach the other side of his all orange world, the wind filling his lungs. He breathes at twice the rate. There are no issues, there is no problem, there is no discomfort.
He speeds up and flies and flies. He never reaches the end, which isn’t unexpected as he knows no end exists. When he is tired of the energising wind, he floats once again to enjoy the fresh air.
*
We find him again the next day, floating once again. The platform rises, the mechanical arm feeds him a carrot. He flies again, the wind fills him, never meeting the end.
*
We find him again the next day, floating once again. The platform rises, mechanical arms feeds him sliced papaya. He flies, this time backwards, because why not.
*
We find him again, this time he is already fed. An orange again this time. He is flying with his eyes closed. He accelerates. Faster and faster. Farther and farth….
BANG!
He hits a wall. A wall! We know what a wall is, he doesn’t, he has never seen one. It stretches to infinity just like the sky and ground did before. There is no wind. Surprisingly there is no fresh air either. He is suffocating. The wall is moving forward. He lands not on a platform but the ground, all of which is now gradually rising.
He takes off, trying to get away, the wind filling him is heavier and fatiguing. He looks back and the wall is following him. “What is this?”, he asks himself. “Who was that?”, he asks himself again wondering what that sound was, why was it in his head?
He flies faster, when..
BANG! “What the hell?”, his voice says. He flies in the other direction, but the wall blocks him. He flies up and hits the sky.
“Not the sky too!”
The air is now lead, he breathes faster and faster. He inhales big and then he exhales. When he does, he notices the wall struggles against his exhale. He pushes air out again and actually sees the wall struggling against it, were his breaths really that strong?
“Who cares?” The voice pointed out.
With all his power he takes one final deep breath. As the sky, walls and ground wrap around his body, cocooning him completely, trapping him.
Two seconds later, he exhales. The world expands like a balloon. The exhaling air provides torque. He starts spinning, only filling the world with air more efficiently. He opens his eyes. Happy to see his world back to normal, he pushes one last time.
The first rip opened right below him, revealing something blue. A second rip opens above him. All of it goes away with a loud pop, like it was never there. A single ball of orange far away remains.
He floats once again, the air not as fresh. Blueberries, blackberries, blue cheese and many other blue foods float, some of them rotting, some of them fresh. He tries to fly, but can only move slowly now. He tries to grab a blueberry, which floats away.
He floats in the wide, blue world, the only orange in stark contrast. He is alone now and that’s how we leave him.
Comments