Don and Darlene were on their honeymoon visiting California’s wine country. They got up at the crack of dawn, left the Napa Valley B&B, and headed to the meeting place for the hot air balloon launch.
When they arrived, the owner of the hot air balloon ride welcomed the half-dozen patrons and instructed them on the do’s and don’t’s of riding in a hot air balloon.
“Once on board,” he said, “don’t lean over the sides of the basket, jump around, or distract the pilot. We will be soaring nearly a mile high and you’ll experience spectacular views of the countryside, the ocean, and the city. Enjoy.”
“This is thrilling,” Darlene said as the balloon started its ascent. “I’ve never been on a hot air balloon ride.”
“Okay folks,” the pilot said. “I’m going to put the burner on full and we’re heading to a mile high!”
“Ouch!” Don suddenly shouted.
Darlene looked over at Don. “Oh my God! Your hair is on fire!” The pilot pulled a towel out of a bucket and tossed it to Don, who put it over his flaming hair.
“Damn,” he said. “They should call this a hot hair balloon ride.”
Written for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt from Susan. Something like this actually happened to me, except that my hair didn’t actual catch on fire, but the hair on the top of my head did get singed by the heat from the balloon’s burner. It’s really hot underneath it!
Also, I changed the last line of this post after reading the comment below from “BADDADCARTOONS,” who commented, “A real hot hair balloon, nice post!” I shoulda thought of that myself, but you know, credit where credit is due, and all that.