The people waved at him from the bridge below.
“It’s 6:30 in the morning. What on earth is that family doing out walking so early this morning?” I thought as I stepped nearer the jutted edge of the embankment. “This was not my end game.”
The little one in pink began jumping and shouting, waving her tiny arms at me. The wind carried her voice away from me. I had no idea what she was yelling, but she was very excited.
My vision was blurred, having stayed up the night just to get the courage to end it all: this was not going according to plan.
Now the entire family was pointing.
Looking down I saw the reason for their excitement: a carnival balloon- in the shape of a giraffe. The neck of the giraffe had become entangled in the brambles just below where I was standing. I couldn’t believe the balloon had not popped on the thorns.
Lying on my chest I stretched downward and snagged the string from the branches. The balloon suddenly lofted itself into the air. I could hear the combined squeals of delight from the three children waiting below.
“Humph! Saved by a giraffe?”
Usually for Mondays Finish the Story the requirements are 150 words. (I cheated? But I did not enter this one. )