Balloons

Remember when we were kids and once or twice a year at school we would write little notes and tie them to balloons and release them? As a kid I can remember imagining some child far far away sitting outside at recess and this balloon falling into his lap and reading my note. My message would be so inspirational that kid would grow up to be a great leader and change the world. But now as an adult I like to picture a much different, more realistic outcome.

About 30 miles south of the school there is a farmer that wakes up at sunrise and makes his way out to the fields to tend to his crops. As he approaches his fields he sees something out of the ordinary, thousands of tiny little pieces of rubber and string in all sorts of colors strung throughout the rows of corn. He approaches one of these objects to see that a small note is attached to one of the strings, he reads the note…”I hate this place, someone get me out of here”. He then reads another and another, “the food here is horrible”, “Mr. Smith made me run laps today” each one worse than the next. “Billy and Tommy caught me in the bathroom alone again”, “I pooped my pants today, but didn’t tell anyone”. Naturally the farmer is shocked by these messages and fears the worst. “The balloon factory has enslaved its factory workers and they are sending these messages out as cries for help”.