[ WP ] `` All I need to make a comedy is a park , a policeman and a pretty girl . '' -Charlie Chaplin

One by one the balloons escaped my bundle sneaking into the sky like children sneaking out the house. The binding must be loose; I must fix that. But, not now - must n't lose focus just yet. We were at a delicate stage. 
 
 
 `` So no boyfriend then?'' 
 
 
............................................. Another balloon hopped away. 
 
 
 `` No...'' 
 
 
 `` Single then...?'' 
 
 
 `` Maybe...'' 
 
 
....................................... Two more gone. Seven left. Can do this. 
 
 
 `` But maybe not...?'' 
 
 
 `` Possibly...'' 
 
 
.......................................... Crappity-crap. The whole bundle was coming loose. 
 
 
 `` Possibly if I gave you this number...'' 
 
 
 `` Possibly... or possibly not. It depends.'' 
 
 
........................................................................ Another one gone. Frantically, a police officer yelled at me, waving his arms. 
 
 
 
 `` Depends...?'' 
 
 
 `` On my boyfriend.'' 
 
 
 `` But you said...?'' 
 
 
.................................... Another gone. The cop was sprinting up. 
 
 
 `` We are of two minds on this thing. He thinks one way. Me another. It's complicated. `` 
 
 
 `` Too complicated? I could n't of course...'' 
 
 
 `` Not *too*...'' 
 
 
 `` So...'' 
 
 
 `` Yes?'' 
 
 
 
 CRASH 
 
 
 I woke up in the hospital three days later: the tethering ring, heavier after the ballonons escaped, had knocked me out. 
 
 
 The girl, well she was gone; I did n't her. 
 
 
 Which worked out for the best - only in part because she'd later marry her'boyfriend' and move to Bolivia to study parakeets - but, mainly because it meant through the reality that set in after heartbreak I looked on the other girl there that day with open eyes and what I found there captivated me. 
 
 
 And this woman - the police officer who would visit me in the hospital for the next week- she I married. 
 
 
 And it is beautiful.
