by Craig Wallwork
Ester Cartridge never knew her father, but on her eighth birthday, the present she received was his final breath. “This is all that remains of your father”, said Ester’s mother handing her a pale pink balloon. Over time, the balloon’s skin had shriveled in patches causing large dents to appear, which reminded Ester of an old person’s head if it had been clobbered with a mallet. Ester could make out a faded print on the balloon that read: Happy 1st Birthday.
Ester took the balloon from her mother and carefully walked it to her bedroom. There she opened the window and sat down wondering what her father’s final breath smelt like. With great care, she fumbled and pinched at the knot until it opened and held it to her face. Slowly she prized the two ends apart, forcing her nose into the gap. But she could not smell anything. She then pushed her nose into the balloon, and then her mouth, until her head was inside. The smell there reminded her of lint and tobacco. Looking through the balloon’s skin, her room turned a lovely pink colour and the sky beyond the window was cerise. It was so nice seeing the world and smelling her father’s breath that she didn’t want to leave that balloon, so she pulled it down over her shoulders, and down her arms, all the way to her feet. Ester then pulled the ends inward and tied a big knot so no air could escape. Life was beautiful in the balloon, and she wondered if she could live in there forever, where everything is pink and smells of old tobacco. She also wondered what the world outside looked like from inside the balloon. Ester bounced up to the window ledge and with one big jump cleared the window. A gracious wind lifted the balloon over the maple tree in her garden and high above her house. She saw her mother in the yard pinning out the washing, and the neighbor's dog chasing its tail. She saw her school and her friend’s house and all the tiny little cars traveling down windy roads. And as Ester neared that big pink sun, her heart swelled with happiness and she prayed aloud that no bird passed with a sharp beak.
© 2010 Craig Wallwork. All rights reserved.
_________________________________________
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Craig Wallwork lives in West Yorkshire with his wife and baby daughter. He has be published in various print and online magazines including: Gold Dust Magazine (winning Best Prose), Sideshow Fables, Troubadour 21, Cherry Bleeds, Colored Chalk Magazine, Laura Hird's official website, Beat the Dust, Nefarious Muse and The Beat. This is his first flash fiction piece, which was heavily influenced by the Israeli writer, Etgar Keret.
