28 September 2012
Whenever she had a worry, a fright, or a problem, she would write it down on a small strip of light blue paper with a onyx black pen. She took that paper and rolled it over itself seven and a half times exactly. She then tied that to the end of a red balloon. Not cherry red or mahogany red. A red that only she could pick. She let the balloon go with her worries. Her fears lifted in the wind. Her problems flew away never to be seen again.
Lifted • Opuss № I