#7_”The Visitor”

“The Visitor” Chalk on Paper

© 2025 David Alan Sincavage. All Rights Reserved.

Sometimes the sky sends you a laugh instead of a storm.

Up in the mellow stretch of morning sky, a swan cruised through the clouds like she’d done a thousand times before. Calm. Cool. In her element.

But then—something odd drifted into her lane.
Didn’t flap. Didn’t glide. Just wobbled.
Real suspicious-like.

She tilted her head and called down to the earth below:
“Heads up. Something’s coming.”

Down by the pasture, a horse raised his head, ears twitching.
In the brush, a turkey ruffled his feathers.
And over by the flowers, a butterfly paused mid-flutter.

The three met by an old fence post, eyes turned skyward.

“Should we follow it?” the horse asked.
“Could be trouble,” said the turkey.
“Could be fun,” said the butterfly.

So they followed.
Through trees, across meadows, under the wide open sky.
The thing drifted clumsy and carefree, like it had no idea it didn’t belong.

Eventually, it came to rest on a soft little hill.

The animals crept up slow, curious but cautious.

And there it was.
Big. Round. Bouncy.
With two googly eyes, a lopsided grin, wild plastic hair, and a sock-like nose.

No threat. Just pure ridiculousness.

Then—
POP!

It exploded into a mess of rubber and string.

For a second, nobody moved.

Then came the laughter.
The horse stomped with joy.
The turkey cackled like a kid.
The butterfly looped through the air like a leaf in a breeze.

Even the swan above let out a chuckle and dipped a wing.

Turns out, it wasn’t a warning.
It wasn’t a message.
Just a lost festival balloon that somehow floated into their little world—
and gave them the best kind of gift:
a surprise laugh on a regular old day.