, ,


Wonder Wheel edit 1 Friday Flash 7

When first I collided with you on a dance-floor, you grasped my waist and lifted my feet from the ground, as if I was as light as fairy-floss. Your laughter, carnival-bright, sparked come-hither neon bursts of colour onto my skin. I was bathed in your razzle-dazzle.

Your hand in mine, up we went, up, in your whirling wonder-wheel. The world fell away beneath our feet. It was easy to lose all sense of gravity with you.

“Roll up, roll up,  for the ride of your life.”

Round and round we whirled, in your wonder-wheel of love. I was never afraid of heights, but your gaze made me dizzy.

Round and round we whirled, until we stopped, suspended, swaying seductively at the wheel’s apex. The view from beside you seemed spectacular, dazzling me with possibilities. You reached out and stole me a handful of stars. Rocking together in our carriage, hip-locked and suddenly, lip-locked. Our tongues were sweet with toffee-apple.

I lost myself in the hurdy-gurdy of your hands, melting like ice-cream under the warmth of your tongue. Lick me all over, love. I’m sticky with lust.

Your jeans disappeared like a magic trick, and I rode you eagerly, my carousel pony, hands grasping your pole. I glided, you guided, up and deliciously down.

You must have bribed the ticket-man.

With the rocking carriage, we made a giddy threesome. As I threw my head back, the stars swooped down to catch me.

“Marry me,” you whispered.

“Yes.” I laughed, in spite of the short, delirious courtship. It’s easy to lose your sense of perspective when you’re going in circles.

Round and round we whirled, my feet forgetting the feel of the ground.

You must have been friends with the ticket-man.

“Roll up, roll up,  for the ride of your life.”

Inevitably, what goes up, must come down. Gravity pulled us earthwards. I remember how my stomach lurched, as I finally stepped onto solid ground.

Perhaps I should have consulted the fortune-teller, took heed of the fore-warning in her outspread cards. I can see them now.

The Magician. The Fool. Death.

Your love was a cheap carnival trick, your proposal accompanied only by a cartoon ring from a side-show alley game.

You disappeared, with a swirl of your charlatan coat, in the middle of the night, as carnivals do. Leaving only the litter of your flimsy promises, strewn like ticket butt confetti across my bedsheets, and the sickly-sweet aftertaste of fairy-floss in my mouth.

“Roll up, roll up,  for the ride of your life.”

© Adrea Kore, August 2016

This little number is based on a whirlwind romance, and the flimsiest of marriage proposals I ever received. Never trust a marriage proposal that doesn’t come with a proper ring.

For more dizzy rides on the wonder-wheel, or to find out more how to join in the fun, click on the giant typewriter buttons, and write to F. Leonora.

Friday flash meme 2