A Letter From The Hot Air Ballooner

My dear friend,

I’m writing this letter to tell you the story of my hot air balloon.

You see… people are assholes.

All I wanted was to have an air balloon that can I fly with, so built one in my backyard (which, as you know from your past visit, is a pretty damn large backyard). Because this air balloon was so conspicuous, some people began approaching me. Talking about hot air balloon with strangers was fine, but the problem was they all had guns in their pocket.

Damn guns!

The conversation with these people usually went like this.

“Howdy, you seem very busy building this hot air balloon.”

“Oh my, yes, I sure am.”

“Are you planning to go somewhere with it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going to the Himalayas.”

“Himalayas… you mean those tall mountains?”

“Yes.”

“That is a terrible plan.”

“Excuse me?”

“You fool, who do you think you are? That is a terrible plan; nobody has ever done it before, and you will fail, and you should feel bad about yourself.”

“…”

“You know what, I think you’re better off just doing some woodwork in the nearby town. I heard their pay is good.”

At this point, I didn’t want to talk anymore, but their guns just went “bam!” Bam, bam, bam; they holed my air balloon! I’ve lost count how many people have done it—dozens, or perhaps hundreds—and you won’t believe how many holes I had to stitch because of them.

What’s up with these people? I don’t know, my dear friend—I don’t know.

As I write this, I’ve finished building my hot air balloon, and I’ll be departing to the Himalayas tomorrow. Had these people not shot my air balloon, I would’ve departed weeks (or months) ago.

Damn assholes.

Anyway, I’ll definitely write you another letter when I can. I heard that the Himalayas is stunningly beautiful; perhaps I can capture some of its beauty in words and send it to you.

—The Hot Air Ballooner