Her Ballon, My Balloon -5minutefreewrite(x3)

For https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/the-weekend-freewrite-4-28-2018-part-3-the-dramatic-twist

I loved the way she said "ballon." She said it as if she were blowing bubbles.

Ballon Ballon Ballon. Like she thought she was French. She wasn't. Everything she say was in an American accent except that. That, though, "Balloon" she always said "Ballon".
It's not like she had so many opportunities to say it, naturally. I mean, even when there were balloons around, how many times can you refer to them before it's weird? None. No times. She made it very weird. She would start by saying, "Oh, I love your Happy Birthday ballon. Did you get the Ballon for her, Candice? You didn't? Who got the ballon for the birthday boy? My goodness, this ballon is so full of air. I mean, I like a nice, tight ballon, but this is so much! Ballon Ballon ballon! WHat a ballon."

I'm not exaggerating. She really said this. And than she took a hairpin from her hair, it all fell down, she rubbed the "ballon" on her head until it stuck, then poked it with her pin and yelled, "Ballon battalion!"

But in every other way, amongst every other object, she acted like a normal person and said the words a normal way. Well, unless she could work "ballon" into it.

"Oh, a stapler! That's such a nice Swingline. I really like to use those to pop a ballon."

"I think what Angela Merkel has to do is tough. I think she's being coy about her true beliefs. I bet she'd titter at a Ballon that said, 'the Greek People deserve our help. The Greek Bank does not." I guess it'd have to be a big ballon. But then, our economy is like a ballon, too, isn't it? Big and getting bigger, but if it gets too big, Ballon Battalion! POP! Ballon!"

The house on the corner had always been the subject of gossip. I was the only one who knew the truth. It was full of helium. The doors, windows, everything was airtight. Like, really incredible. You could get in, but you had to know how. I was in there once. I couldn't stay for long, of course, because helium is not oxygen. But it was funny to say things while I was there. I tried saying, "Ballon" a few times, but it just wasn't the same without her there. I left pretty quickly. I knew I wanted her to be able to share it with me. I had two tickets to the Balloon Show in Downtown Cincinnati, but this seemed like an even better first date idea.

We got there at 8. I pressed the special elevator button that looked like a pronoun (He) and we found ourselves whisked through a tunnel, into a

Well, the details aren't important, because I'm making them up, and it's getting really slow. I think it's, like, not magic, but also not a technological marvel. This is just the way the house is.

Anyways, date time. She seemed enthralled, but she didn't say ballon even once, even though, I THOUGHT, there were plenty of reasons for her to. I even laid out hints in my squeaky voice. Like, oh, this stuff is so floaty. We should put it in something.

But we couldn't stay long, of course.

A crooked umbrella lay outside. She was oddly silent as she stared at it. Finally she spoke. "I think we should take a hot air balloon ride."

I was dumbfounded. I didn't know how to react. She was so somber, like all the life had gone out of her.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"Of course. That was marvelous. And I want to go on more adventures with you. I don't think I can even imagine something more unexpected and exciting as that was. But I can try, and I think a Hot Air Balloon ride is a great way to start."
Her tone was ... stolid? It was normal. It lacked the manic enthusiasm that I expected from her. ANd she said Balloon.

"I also have two tickets to the Cincinnati Balloon Festival, if you want to go right now."

"Sure, that'd be lovely. I think I really would like some... something. I feel like I'm thinking of something, and I can't quite put my finger on it." She said this last part very thoughtfully.

I waited. We both looked at the crooked umbrella at our feet.

I waited.

I waited.

I stopped waiting.

"Ballon?" I said.

A slow smile spread across her face. Sudden and slow and honest. Like this.
She shook her head. "No... Parasol."