Jake scrummaged in his art and craft box for a marker. Sitting against the bed he wedged the red helium balloon between his knees and began to write the prayer of a six year old. Going into the backyard he released it, letting the ribbon unfurl through his fingers. It rocketed upwards, its string a tail, a seed propelled by faith, with hope that it would conceive and bring forth life. Jake shaded his eyes and watched it ascend towards heaven until he could see it no more. He wondered if it had reached God or if maybe it had burst before God could read it.
Do you really want an answer to the question, ”Who are you?”
I am an English teacher and drummer/percussionist with an interest in literary pursuits, creative endeavours, rhythmic permutations, theological amplifications and comedic outbursts.Here you will find my creative detritus: articles on living a creative life and writing explorations.
And other ideas I have snaffled from the papers stuck on the fridge door.
Twitter: @RevHappiness
Instagram: @handwrittenpagesMy collaborative epistolary novel, "Post Marked: Piper's Reach," written with Jodi Cleghorn (@JodiCleghorn) out now via Vine Leaves Press.
Come and browse through the library; there is no need to be silent.
A Fullness in Brevity - Adam Byatt 
Beginning a brief series using the motif of a red balloon as the unifying feature for different purposes. This one is not about the vagaries of faith and doubt, but more about the doubt I have about myself. I don’t doubt in what I believe, but doubt in my faith to believe.
We do this every year on our daughter’s birthday. Our kids write messages to her on helium balloons and we let then go so that she can read the messages and play with the balloons where she rests in the stars.
Excellent post i am sure that i will come back here soon
Love this idea, and the way you have worked the innocent perspective of the kid, with lovingly described imagery. 🙂