Bubbles

Twirling gracefully, pirouetting out of my reach, trying to ascend over my dirty hands. I scrutinize them as they swayed mindlessly, danced carelessly, and spun around like a pulchritudinous ballerina. The bubbles were clear glass windows keeping me enclosed. Like an exit that I could not escape through, able to see into it yet not truly able to touch it, to hold it in my feeble grasp. They shone with rainbows, sang songs of comfort and promise. They did not stumble; they floated like a swan on a lake and capered like the star of a one man’s show. 

    The bubbles felt magical, glorious, childish as they pivoted around me. My hands reached out to them, desperately trying to store them away. They cantered and veered, hopelessly trying to find an escape before wistfully popping in my pale palm. They felt saponaceous, as if I had smothered my fist in butter. What a monster I am, destroying this bliss… but I longed to feel the effervescent sensation bubbling in my chest again as I jabbed at the butyraceous balloons. I saw alluring glints of light out of the corner of my eye and so I reached out for another one, this bubble shone of pixie dust and magic wardrobes and creatures under my bed. It was like reading a storybook arranged inside a glass casing, close but still separated. What impetuous choices will I impulsively make just to hide these ardent souls in my drawer, to keep them for another day?

    Boreal, paralyzing wind howled and wailed like an abandoned dog. Up and away my wonders did soar; the bubbles flew up like hollow balloons. My head was in the clouds, following the bubbles like an enigmatic spy. They sail over the forest and I hear the tussling flames roaring and screaming in the trees as we soared away from reality. I touched my cold fingertips to another extraordinary bubble, I could practically taste the tangy bitterness of soap on my tongue. This one shone of an unparalleled freedom, of unconditional admiration, of recklessness. It was like a drug; a form of delirious euphoria; a tale of joie de vivre. What would I do just to get a taste of that liberation? How long has it been since I have tasted such ecstasy?