Ezize bounced across the rug. Her white balloon bobbed beside her. It bumped the wall and drifted back.
The balloon drifted toward the window. A little breeze tugged the string. Ezize followed it — through the kitchen, into her bedroom.
At the open window, the breeze lifted the balloon higher. Ezize stretched and jumped, but the string stayed just out of reach. She landed and puffed her cheeks.
A big gust swirled the balloon into joyful loops! It spun and dipped and swooped above her head. Ezize dropped to her knees and burst into laughter.
"Come back!" she called, pointing at the spinning balloon. It swooped and dipped, playing with the wind.
She lay back on the soft rug and watched the balloon rest against the ceiling. It was still and gentle and white.
A quiet hum filled the room. Ezize smiled without saying a word.
The balloon bobbed once, twice. Then it was still. Ezize stayed on the rug, watching it rest against the ceiling.