The town council declares a gravity holiday. For twenty-four hours, weight takes a break. People tether themselves with scarves. Parks become floating picnics. Someone loses grip on a lawn chair and waves politely as it drifts into the stratosphere. Children chase bubbles that rise forever. At midnight, gravity clocks back in. A thousand objects thud gently to earth, newly appreciated. A single balloon remains aloft, perhaps still negotiating its vacation days.
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