One day, as I was working at my desk a wind came up.

I mean a BIG wind.

It was one of those winds that picks up your plastic-till-you-get-real Adirondack chairs and throws them across the yard like confetti. Makes the windows shake. And laughs wickedly as it strips your 50 foot maple tree of every last remaining spec of its autumn-toned splendor, leaving nothing but branches behind.

That was when I saw it. I jumped to my feet. “What the…!” I thought, as I spied this odd, out-of-time ballon, riding the waves of tumultuousness, giggling with glee (which trumps “laughs wickedly” with righteous ease, I noted).

I double-took and stared harder. Who was that pilot? I couldn’t see anyone, yet could’ve sworn I saw an energetic wave and thumbs-up, right before the balloon was swept up and up and up, disappearing into the stormy heavens above.

I was stunned… shocked… utterly amazed. What just happened? Was it real? (Was it?)

One thing was for sure: it had just become a day that could quite possibly redefine days.

If days were re-definable.

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From the Story Beings Collection.  Click the image to see it in the gallery.

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