Sam looks at the pavement as they walk. It’s covered with dead leaves and scraps of litter and there are weeds sprouting at the edges. The sight of it makes him uneasy.
Meanwhile, his dad is looking up at the sky. There’s a hot air balloon floating overhead, red and yellow striped.
Sam can see his dad smiling and he tries to copy him, but there are too many things wrong with the world today.
His dad reaches up towards the balloon and plucks it from the sky, his black hair turning white as it touches the clouds.
You can do anything, he says and tugs the balloon down to earth. The people inside it scream and yell as they are tossed from the basket to their deaths.
He looks at the limp balloon in his hand, wondering what went wrong.
No, we can’t, thinks Sam and he returns his attention to the decaying street and the brittleness of dreams.
Alex J Rankin 