#slammas

My broken toe has gone biblical. I was waiting for the third good deed before reporting but I'm worried the third deed might end in a surgical procedure. 

The first good deed took me by surprise. Seated and scoffing cake at my brother's wedding the big band (Birdyard) struck some tune or other and the new couple set about dancing. Her parents stood up and then my dad and his wife and then... my mother did not make an appearance. 

She was sitting at a table with her sister and brother and family and a friend but her partner was off photographing something or other. She was clasping her hands together in her lap and trying to smile while the other parents danced that once only dance with their new married children. So I stood up and offered her my hand.

At the end of the dance I was gritting my teeth and breathing shallow with pain but I'm fairly certain it was worth it.

The next weekend I ventured on a short walk to the shop for bread. Wearing loosely laced sneakers and a fair amount of optimism I set off down the sunny street. Half way home I was slowing down and feeling some fresh swelling when a small girl in a silly sun dress and pink shoes started just crying on the street. Her father was half way down the block with her siblings and shopping bags. 

The girl had let go of her red balloon. It was stuck in a tree branch about half a metre over my head. I stopped to see if I could reach it but it was just a little too high. I looked down at her small sad face muddy with tears and sighed. I gathered my courage and made a small jump. I came down hard but trailing a red balloon. I bent down and tied it to her little wrist as she smiled. Her father called out thank you and she ran skipping and singing to catch up with him.

I stood under the tree for a minute or two feeling sharp new pain and old dull aches melding together into internal feeling of hot metal and jaggedness. Shuffling home I began to wonder if there wasn't something fishy about the set up of a small girl and a red balloon.