I remember, as a child, my first trip to the carnival. I stood at the entrance, my small hand held firmly by a larger one belonging to a much more confident adult, as I took in my surroundings. The flashing lights, the music and screaming all had me gawking at anything and everything that my eyes happened upon. What caught and kept my attention were the rides that seemed to torture their occupants. It still amazes me that average, ordinary people eagerly trade in the serenity and security of the ground for the chance to be tossed through the air like vegetables in a food processor. It is somewhat awe inspiring to think that at some time in history, someone thought people would enjoy the above torment. As an adult, it is precisely this thrill and excitement of having survived the ride that keeps me coming back for more.
My very first ride that day was on the ferris wheel with my aunt. Looking up at that looming monstrosity spinning the life out of its sardine-caged......
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