Hi Christopher! Greetings from your loving birthday balloon! I hope I didn’t spoil the party after I left. I’m sure you were devastated as soon I slipped from your hand and drifted into the sky above your garden. Don’t worry, I wanted to travel anyway.
I wanted to send you a postcard to say that I’ve been well since I last saw you two hours and thirty-seven minutes ago. I hope you don’t mind this crumbled old piece of napkin and my horrible stringwriting. At least I can write. That’s what you get with a store-bought balloon valued at £10.
Travelling has been fun. Can you believe the wind catapulted me all the way to the tree out front? I’ve been telling everyone on your street that it’s your birthday. See? My glitter and foil have purpose.
I think this journey has done me some good. It’s made me more humble and helped me realise that I’m still better than the plain-looking balloons. Being stuck in a tree gives you perspective, especially when you’re inches away from bursting.
Look, I’ll get to the point. It’s only a matter of time before one of these branches fiercely stabs me to death or a squirrel mistakes me for an over-sized candy bar. I’m scared, Christopher. I thought of yelling for help, but I’m utterly embarrassed of my chipmunk voice.
I’ve been paralysed and I can hardly move. This is torture. This has triggered memories of my late father who was savagely popped by a sharp chandelier. Will I experience a similar fate?
By the time you get this, I may already be dead. Please remember the good times we had and please don’t let this postcard ruin your birthday. I may see you in the morning. By then I’ll be a flaccid balloon swinging in the wind outside your house.
Anyway, Happy 3rd Birthday!
PS I hope you read balloon.
All the best,
Richard aka Your Birthday Balloon