World-wide Helium Shortage

A silver Chevy crew cab truck, moving too fast through the curves, had a bunch of balloons sticking out its back passenger window. I couldn’t hear them, but it was obvious the balloons were making some sort of beating sound because they were being throttled. Out the other windows were hands, waving and swaying and having a good time.

I didn’t want to keep up with the truck. I didn’t want to witness the abuse, so I slowed down and lost sight of it on one of turns.

And then I saw an escaped balloon, golden and bright, looked like Mylar. It was floating well above the height of traffic, but it had stopped climbing. The beating it took in the window left it looking dazed or hurt. Certainly, it was not deflated, but this height was it. This was as high as it could climb now.

At it’s best, it would have touched the clouds before shedding its skin and spreading itself across the sky. But now, all it had left was the appearance, the seeming of being shiny and full of potential.

I drove on, and further down the road I saw a curl of ribbon on the road. I swerved around it and I saw the truck again. The balloons were still thrashing at the window, and those hands were still waving and partying, like this is how you’re supposed to do it. I’m sure they were laughing.