Helium Dissipatium

Is there anything sadder than an aging balloon?

For almost three weeks now, one that says HAPPY RETIREMENT has been maturing in the kitchen. Brought home from the party, it was tied to the arm of a chair to prevent it from flying exuberantly to the ceiling. Where it once bounced right back if poked, shot straight up if its ribbon was yanked, and swayed happily when the door was opened, it now hovers tentatively, struggling to stay afloat in the gentlest air current, its tether no longer taut, its Mylar body no longer a tight, smooth skin.

A very clear indication that the party’s over.