Not Fair

    The typical fair aromas were abundant. Sweet, dry, and deep-fried scents lingered about both hunger and vomit inducing. The August afternoon sun sat atop the clear blue sky exacerbating the already overwhelming smells. Hundreds of sweaty, glistening bodies roamed the fairgrounds like ecstatic ants, migrating to nearby attractions and food kiosks. 
    Yellow, read, and orange hues blanketed the fairground. A barrage of garish colors, along with a “$20 per ticket page/ Non-refundable” sign, graced the front side of the towering structure. The gurgling emanating from the refrigerator-sized ticket machine stopped, as a sheet of red paper appeared out of a slot at the machine’s feet. Carle grabbed the sheet of tickets, placing them into his right pocket, as he stepped away from the robotic salesman. He wanted to see the entire fair but was limited by time restraints and decided to ride the Ferris wheel, located a mere hundred feet or so from where he currently stood.
    Carle began his way towards the Ferris wheel without hesitation. Colorful, wooden booths had been set up on either side of the dirt pathway leading to the spiraling attraction. The fair-folk, the “carnies”, running the booths knew little of self restraint. Their hoots and hollers for attention created a roar not easily ignorable, but Carle tried none the less. The carnies moved around their booths erratically like caged gorillas in heat. In a booth to the right of Carle, an overweight woman-wearing novelty sunglasses-desperately offered free prizes for participation. But her pleas were blanketed by fun-filled screams, low-quality radio music, and other fairground banter. Small children holding red balloons ran about, nearly running into anything and everything. Empty water bottles, napkins, and other debris littered the dirt pathway as if trash cans were non-existent. The fair was a colorful battleground full of obstacles and characters all its own.
    Carle made it to the rusted, steel-fence unscathed by the fair’s chaotic randomness. The fence stood waist high and surrounded the perimeter of the colossal Ferris wheel. It acted as a safety barricade and helped signify the start of the line for the attraction. The two-hundred foot high, steel-structure rotated clockwise with thirty compartments capable of holding up to two persons each. Colorless, lifeless, and yet intoxicatingly exciting. The center beams, reminiscent of a bicycle wheel’s spokes, shimmered in the sun’s glare. 
    As the Ferris wheel began to slow to a stop, Carle realized he was the only one standing in line. The excitement within him grew, as the halting squeaks of the gears grew louder. His left hand clenched the steel barricade, as his right hand maneuvered into his pocket reaching for the sheet of tickets. Carle was mesmerized by the slowing rotation of the enormous Ferris wheel. Slow. Slower. The steel fence opened with a squeak, as Carle handed a carnie his tickets. Slower. He wiped sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand, waiting for the Ferris wheel to come to a halt. Slower. The lights, the music, the loud sounds of grinding metal ceased almost simultaneously. The power goes out. Abrupt stop.

                                                                             by  Jason Jack