Two days ago I saw a man in a perdicament. It seems a bundle of bright yellow balloons had wrapped themselves around his leg and they weren't letting go. The man was a little drunk, so bending down to untie them wasn't much of an option for him. He shook his foot. The balloons flapped in that rubbery way, but didn't come loose. He shook his foot again. The balloons bounced up and down around his ankle, but stayed firmly attatched to him. He stopped, peered at these awful yellow things for a long moment, then, with what at the moment passed for an epiphany, the man began a new course of action. He brought his free foot up - and down on a balloon. POP! it went. Again he brought his foot down. Another balloon: POP. And again. POP. POP. POP. With only two balloons to go the man gave his leg one last final shake - and the balloons came free, carried away by the wake of a passing car.
The man walked on, unencumbered, but somehow a lesser person for the experience.
The man walked on, unencumbered, but somehow a lesser person for the experience.