He gripped my finger tightly, looking skyward. “Dad, can we go on that one?” he asked excitedly. “You sure?” I asked. People laughed as the swings rotated, seats pushing outward from the ride. Suddenly, a loud clunk echoed through the fairgrounds. The sound of metal on metal screeched. Black smoke began billowing from the sides and the ride began spinning faster. Faster and faster and faster it went. Screams could be heard over malfunctioning ride. Chains started snapping, people and chairs flung outward, landing and sliding over the concrete.
I blinked the image away and listened to the laughter. “Nah, not today.”
This is a story in 100 words or fewer for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle-Wisoff-Fields based on the photo above. Click the blue frog to read more stories inspired by this photo!
Just like me… This could be so me…
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😀 That’s my DW too.
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I have premonitions like that. And the anticipation of being scared is worse than the ride itself.
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I’m like that before I get on a plane. The anticipation of something going catastrophically wrong is way worse than the actual plane trip.
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Exactly. I’ve pretty much given up flying now.
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LOL I haven’t given it up, but the anticipation still gets to me. I try to tell myself I’m just anxious to travel. But if I look deep within I can see it’s actually the flight that makes me anxious, not traveling. I love flying, but I do imagine the worst sometimes.
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I can feel all that space under my bum: not nice!
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That das has a very lively imagination. Good story, poor kid though.
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It’s okay. Mom rode the ride with him 🙂
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Sounds like a lucky escape…
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Or an over active imagination that always envisions the worst.
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