They came in flocks. Hissing as they swooped over rooftops.
Everyone rushed out with cameras, hoping to catch some of their colourful beauty
As they flew overhead like exotic birds.
One balloon hovered so near that we could read the newspaper headlines on it.
Later on, when the yolk of the setting sun broke to spread its gold on the waters of the lake,
Anklebiter #1 turned to me and said, “Don’t forget to tell your readers about the day the news came floating by.”
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