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the mayor of ezekiel, mississippi flies solo


Posted on September 21, 2023 by Mike Itaya
Mike Itaya


fire on a green hot air balloon data-lightbox='featured'

I’ve tumbled a long way in the world since the day I had breakup sex with Ms. Wanda in the hot air balloon. It was in the throes of spent love: I attempted to jump to my death, but crashed into the Ezekiel Barnhouse (where I landed, to my regret, safely on, yes, a bale of hay).

That day back in the balloon, I remember watching Ms. Wanda step over the side and plummet to earth. At that moment, my heart rose up in my chest just before she triggered a parachute and descended to safety, far away from me.

She’d planned on leaving me and never said a word.

After that, I was flying solo, strictly speaking. I was still holding an engagement bouquet from Piggly Wiggly and beginning to feel quite foolish. From way up there in the balloon, I remember taking a gander at the life lived below. It wasn’t much to write home about. Muskogee Pond was just a pit stain upon the earth, and even Grans’ McMansion looked wee from on high. I remember being struck with the notion that if all looked ridiculous below, I must look damn ridiculous all alone in that goddamn sky. I waved my paw ferociously at the inhabitants of the earth, hoping someone might yet wave back. No one did.

And up in the balloon, I remember thinking a lot of ungroovy thoughts: I remember thinking that life might be lived poorly or well, without much consequence. I remember thinking love was a guarantee right until it wasn’t. I remember thinking about Ms. Wanda, when she certainly was no longer thinking about me. I remember thinking I had a full day’s rental on that balloon, without anyplace else to go, anyplace I wanted to be.

I remember saying Ms. Wanda’s name once more. Right before I jumped.


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