The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Donald Antrim Reads Donald Barthelme 2021

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

The Big Balloon

There was pleasure in being able to run down an incline then up the opposing slope, or in making a leap from one side to the other. Bouncing was possible because of the neumaticity of the surface. And even falling, if that was your wish. That all these varied motions were within one's possibilities in experiencing the upsiht of balloon was extremely exciting for children accustomed to the city's flat, hard skin. A degree of frustration was evidenced by those city officers into whose province such manifestations normally fell. The apparent purposelessness of the balloon was vexing, as was the fact that it was there at all. But i could not bear to do so.

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