On The Ferris Wheel

On The Ferris Wheel

It took a lot of guts, but I'd gotten there in the end. Hours I spent in front of the mirror, planning a conversation that I knew would evaporate the minute I saw her smiling face. Her red hair danced in the wind, passionately intwined like two flamenco dancers coming to the climax of their performance. The Latin bass caught me off guard, reverberating through my soul, matched only by the thunderous strumming of a heart carrying a heavy load of love. But it was a pleasant load, a load under which I glady fell and was smothered by. Oh, she was beautiful.

Her steps were small but confident, as if two attentive cherubs held her arms, guiding her along, protecting her. There was a serenity in her aura which betrayed the fluorescence of the fairground around her. She seemed not withdrawn, but slightly set apart. Noticeable, emitting a glow that was different, more subtle than the neon lights which cast green, red and yellow shades upon her beatific gaze.

The ferris wheel was there, its spokes circulating peacefully, its gentle rhythm reminding me of frothing ocean waves upon a deserted sea shore. I took my love's hand in mine. I held it tight, like a child would hold a teddybear as it fell into sleep's welcoming arms. She responded with a smile so radiant, so uplifting that embarassment, fear and anxiety faded. I was here with the girl of my dreams.

I embraced her as the ferris wheel scooped us off the ground. The great white body held us in its caring arms like a mother would a newbown baby, like a boy would his puppy as it fell asleep in his embrace. As we reached the apex of the circle, we rose above everything. The neon congregation below became silent as we came within touching distance of the sky's purple sheath.

We kissed on the ferris wheel.