I followed the rule and did not call my friend’s phone when I could not find the balloon. It was a wonderful thing to practice. My eyes bounced from left to right, right to left like a ping-pong game in slow-motion across thousands of love-birds, families and friends. I walked mindfully across blanket corners, looking lost amongst the incredibly familiar, all because I knew the balloon was out there. I would find it. Spot it in the distance, gotcha!, and walk effortlessly towards it as if seeing it first thing. This was a nice little game. Find the balloon; don’t call the phone. Win a symphonic experience in the middle of July under those two city stars. For bonus points, bet you I can find the stars. I walk, holding my turkey hero with one hand, my shoes with the other, grabbing at the grass with my toes. Giving my heels a good stain. Missing my boyfriend for a moment but refusing to forget about that balloon. A rule is a rule.