Flash Fiction 05 - Fangsheng

Fangsheng

There were worse jobs in the city. They were plentiful and easy to find. Easy to keep, too, if you dropped your integrity, dignity and pride at the door. Abel couldn't do that. Not for long, anyway.

He scrimped and saved and bought a bike and signed on as an independent delivery person. The app took most of his money but he got to keep all the tips.

It was a windy day so he knew there would be a job from the Balloon Lady. Abel biked to the novelty store on 18th and sat outside, swiping to refresh. He locked the request the moment it appeared, then went inside to pick up her order.

"What? Were you waiting outside?" Annabel laughed as Abel flashed her the phone screen to confirm the request.

"Of course," Abel replied. "It's windy today."

He tied the balloon bouquet to the back of his bike and wheeled into traffic. The balloon lady lived on West 57th, about 20 minutes. Abel could do it in under 15 if he pushed hard and the traffic was with him. For the Balloon Lady he always pushed hard.

She waited for him on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building. Her expression was serene though the wind sent her brown robe flapping erratically around her ankles. Abel confirmed delivery on the app and held the string leashes as the balloons circled and struggled to get away in the turbulent air. "The puppies are restless today," he smiled at her.

The Balloon Lady smiled back and held out $50. "You never tell," she reminded him. Only after he nodded did she hand him the bill. She took the strings from him and admired the balloons. "So beautiful," she murmured. "It's a crime against nature to keep them penned up." Her eyes glinted with her passion. "They should be free." She produced a pair of silver scissors and cut the cords just above the knot that joined them all together.

The wind caught the balloons and swept them away.