The giant balloons get me, like some Fellini movie, just lyrical the way they arc through the air. It's a melancholy thing to watch it wind indecisively through the air. You smack the end and it soars. On 20 de Noviembre, the zocalo was filled with children chasing after them, falling on top of them, popping them, and then grabbing someone else's.
Max chose a bootleg Spiderman print, blurry with the thousands of times it had been reproduced. When that deflated, someone gave him a Sponge Bob one, where Sponge Bob was elongated and blue. Genevieve dove after a boy's Viva Mexico balloon, only to drag it over to him and surrender it. Five minutes later, he was by her side, offering it back to her.
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