Devonne Brown

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Martin’s mouth hung open as the hot air balloon rose over the trees. He heard the hot air being released under the bulbous fabric as it climbed towards the daylight half moon that hung suspended almost secretly against the blue of the sky. The silky fabric wiggled against the azure expanse and danced around a wisp of a cloud. Higher it climbed. 

Martin ran toward the dirigible. He wanted to touch it, to be absorbed by it, to be a part of the most beautiful thing he’d ever encountered in his eleven years of life. It took his breath away. The gas hissed again and it climbed higher still. He called out to the three people he could see to come back, come back, come back and take him with them. They waved, but didn’t hear. He jumped as high as he could, but the balloon rose higher.

Martin had to tell somebody about this. He was about to burst from excitement. His mom would understand. She knew him better than anyone, better than Scout, his best friend and confidant. Scout wouldn’t believe him anyway. All he was interested in was football, and Sarah Miles. He’d grown out of cool stuff like hot air balloons, skipping rock, and dinosaurs. He’d never believe him about the balloon. He only believed in touchdowns and making out with Sarah. Ewww.