I look at the street corner, coffee in my hand and see a young
girl in a summer dress, clutching onto a red, heart-shaped
balloon. The balloon gently tugs at her hand, and seems
to whisper, “Please, let me be free, little one.”
The girl listens to the balloon’s begs and pleas, and releases her
grasp on the chain which held it down, and the balloon immediately
begins to float away. Realizing her mistake the girl tries to
recapture her prized possession, but misses and instead is forced
to watch her balloon float away into the sky. As I watch the scene unfold,
the balloon seems to turn and shout back to her, “Thank you! Thank you for letting me be free!”
The girl continues to watch her balloon until it was just a red dot in an endless sea of blue.
And then it was gone. The revelry was shattered and Banksy’s image was no longer in front of me