The love inside of the balloon:
This is a short story about one large balloon filled with love that a small child let go of and how it kept floating up, up, up into the air and everyone panicked for the child, for the balloon and for the love inside of the balloon. The child cried. People stretched arms high, clutched at the sky, in a last scrambled attempt to catch hold, but no one could bring it back down from the sky; it continued to float away, further and farther, higher up in to the atmosphere, escaping in to space where, like an illusion, it eventually burst.
Colin McGuire
My name is McGuire. Brief view: A thin 26 year old Glaswegian man, touch giddy in the head, sometimes poet of mangled form and dirty prose, sporadic drummer, drunken grammarian, waffler, painter using crayons, lover, hater, learner, teacher, pedestrian, provocateur, wanderer, confronter of shadows, irritating whine.
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