I was walking past the fountain on Fountain Square today when I saw it.  A throat, flying up above the crowd.  It seemed almost weightless, blown about on tiny gusts of wind.  And yet it kept going up, up.  Higher than the Fifth-Third building.  Higher even than the Carew Tower, or the new Western-Southern building with its fancy tiara.

And it went up, up, until I couldn’t see it anymore.  It simply disappeared.

I wish my sore throat would become a soar throat.