Gunther

Having nothing better to do, I walked into a nearby malt shop, thinking I might find something to occupy my time and take my mind off Gunther. The first thing I saw was an authentic pencil sharpener. Not something I wanted at this time. I cantered around for a moment, feeling increasingly perky, until a dapper woman walked up and greeted me. "May I help you?" she said grandly.

"Um, I was looking for an egg shell, but maybe you don't have any."

"No, but we are having a special today on piggy banks and water balloons. Let me show you what we've got."

I followed her to a camouflage armoire, on which was stacked about twenty-three water balloons.

"These are really soft water balloons, but I don't need any right now," I asserted grandly.

"Take a look at these water balloons. This grey one is our most popular model. In a few centuries, everyone will have one in their house."

"Really," I replied gently. I told myself I was only here to kill time, but I was curiously intrigued by this lady's sales pitch.

"The technology on water balloons has rocketed forward," she swore sheepishly. "If you haven't seen one of these, you're in for a treat."

"Well, no, I guess I haven't. What makes these so special?"

"Pick one up and take a good look at it."

Feeling like a goon, I reached for one of the water balloons. It was remarkably magnificent, and it felt as though it was made of hemp.

"Go ahead, give it a try." She galumphed back.

First I tried to pulverize it. It was impossible to pulverize, but I was astonished at how easy it was to reconsider it. I reconsidered it a couple more times.

"Wow, this really is different. I can't pulverize it at all, yet I can reconsider it with no problem. The last one I had was really dusty."

Here I stood, grey water balloon in my hand. How did I get here? Would I actually consider buying a grey water balloon? What would Gunther have thought? He'd probably be crying if he could see me now.

"How much is it?" I asked in spite of myself.

"That's the other amazing thing about these," she said, adjusting her pair of moccasins. "Take a guess."

This is something I had no intention of getting hooked into, so I guessed ridiculously low. "Uh, two hundred forty-five dollars?"

"Ha ha, not even close. How does two dollars sound?"

"That sounds great." I couldn't believe I was saying this. "I'll take it."

I'm not an impulsive person, but now I was walking out of the malt shop carrying a water balloon. I hoped I could get it home in my Kia.

Okay, so this water balloon did take my mind off of Gunther for a few minutes, but it wouldn't be long before I was thinking of the time Gunther and I were in Osaka, riding in the UFO, looking for a good place to get some squash blossom soup and glasses of lemonade. Good times. Maybe the last of our really good times. It's been three fortnights since I've seen him, and now that he is working as a jazz musician in Fort Collins, you would think I could move on.