Carly Swanberg

A red Ferris wheel spins
on a bluff and two six year
olds wait in
line for their turn to be
weightless.
The girl is watching in
awe as the metal shanks shift
seamlessly and arch over the
side. Each time it rotates a
swooooosh noise and
then the sound of sand
particles as they drop over the
edge. There is a story her
mother told her about this
cliff. There once was
in the very spot she
stands now a lighthouse which guided
ships from other
worlds. What happened to the lighthouse
Mommy? She had asked
on a foggy island morning
over pancakes and apple
juice. There was never
any lighthouse there! Her
father nearly screams – his
fist shaky his
knuckles
white on the wooden
table. She envisions there
will be a hand print embedded
in the stained
wood after his arm
retreats. It will not have
a white tan
line where his wedding ring once
announced. But she is too
young on this
day to know anything
about what happens
next.