Wheel in the Sky

This is where we said we’d meet, by the Ferris wheel in my dreams, like it was a real place and not on the edge of all the worlds. You were anyone, faceless and holding white flowers in one hand and pink cotton candy in the other. They’re for you, you said without any lips. I laughed at the craziness of it.

I looked up to the yellow and red cars on the wheel, circling the planet that was us and wondered if gravity would really hold us down if we didn’t want it to. And like in most dreams, suddenly we were somewhere else, in the red car at the top and leaning over the railing.

We were little kids now, kicking our feet out back and forth until the car was rocking. I threw out a torn piece of cotton candy and watched it float up and up, the pink even pinker against the sky. I want to remember this, I say, clasping your fingers in mine. You won’t, you whispered it like a secret. You never do. The words felt true.

Can we meet at the roller coaster next time? I ask. You squeeze my hand and say, it’s your dream baby, we can meet wherever you want.

wheel of dreams, ferris wheel, ride, sky, dream, postcard fiction