The Life and Times of Gregory Peace


 

There once was a man named Gregory Peace.

He’d sit in his kitchen chair all day and all night, filling up colorful balloons.
The next day he’d take the balloons and a fistful of ribbon, down to the train station.

There, he would squeeze and squish all his balloons into a rail car,
pardoning his way to other travelers from station to station.

At the last stop he would depart, causing the sea of people to part
and let him pass

And into the light!

Past the train-station gates

Up the stairs

Who would have thought, that colors could become so blue and green!
The sunlit treetops waving leafy branches at the sapphire sky.

There he would sit, on a bench in the park
cutting the fistful of ribbon.

Even strips of shining silver, each one as tall as himself!
He would then tie each even strip to a balloon, then to his arm so they wouldn’t fly away.

By the time he was done he had at least a hundred balloons, each tied to his arm.
Then, the wind picked up and the balloons lifted into the air.

All of a sudden Gregory found himself skipping across the park, over the stoplight, and straight down Bunbury Boulevard!

Ducking and weaving he went in-between speeding cars, through clouds of steam that rose from the potholes, and straight into crowds and crowds of pedestrians.

Skipping by with a pardon to each, he began to tug on the silver strips of ribbon.
One pulled free and then another.

As he went, skipping and tugging, he handed the balloons to each passerby.
“Can’t stay to chat!  Have a wonderful day!”  
He would call as the balloons pulled him down the street.

Soon there were only a few balloons left tied to his arm.
Then there was only one.

The wind still billowed through the street, but Gregory remained standing still.
Holding his last balloon, he searched for the perfect person to whom he could give.

Then, from around the corner the wind blew, tiny pieces of ribbon each one blue.
Next came six tabby kittens, a streaking blur of

 orange                         striped                        grey               and spotted fur.  

Stop those kittens!” shouted a boy skidding to a stop.
Tousled hair and out of breath he pointed the kittens disappearing down the street.

Gregory, surprised and startled, let go of his last balloon.
Up, up it floated until it too was out of sight.

“I will help you find your kittens,” he said, and together they went running down the street, pardoning their way to the bustling bustling travelers each.

To be continued…

 

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