Warning: Inflation vignette. Being a dose of very silly fantasy in a very few words (100, to be exact).
The train moves with slow brushstrokes, yielding Dartford as a smear of yellow light. Through dark and sleep and motion, whispers drift to my detachment.
"Tried it with helium last night."
"Shit." A pause. "How much....?"
"Enough. Got rather...umm....perky."
"You mean...?"
"Uh-uh." The voice inhales memory. "like a balloon."
"Seriously? Omygosh..."
"Hey; your idea ..."
"Yeah.. but there's fantasies and..." Suppressed giggles share confidence. "Really, really up?
"For hours. The same...sensations. Lighter than air hon..."
"Wow....could we...outside? I mean; it wore off; right?"
"Nearly. New bra."
"I noticed..."
"Shhhh! That girl's waking up..."