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Theme Park
By: Old Gobbo

Sarah sat there on the bench twisting her hair around her finger like the woman in the cotton candy stand. The sun was now starting to set and Sarah knew that soon the lights would come on. The singular natural light of the sun would be replaced by the multitude of colourful spheres that no one seemed to notice until they actually came on. The young girl on the bench was only fourteen but she did not recognize this concept - age. In the park there are only the people, and the actions. The outsiders could never understand this but yet this is the true nature of the world. Be it a Farris Wheel or a skyscraper, the rules are still the same. The bench was near the temporary entrance to the travelling fair; Sarah liked this particular bench because she could watch the people as they entered and left the park. In particular she liked to watch the looks on their faces, first as they came in, and then when they walked out, back to their Volvos and Hyundai’s.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little girl. You’ve been sitting here for a while, where are your mommy and daddy?”

Sarah looked up to examine the wrinkled old face of some woman. The elderly woman was wearing a loose pair of white, light fabric pants with a brown shawl. She assumed the woman was a grandmother as she was with a middle-aged man and another young girl who were standing in line at the cotton candy stand. The man wore a pair of khakis with a blue shirt with white stripes tucked neatly into the pants and a pair of Dockers on his feet; the small girl was dressed in a short, grey pleated skirt with a white tank top, sandals and sunglasses adorned on her head.

“My mom is around…”

“Where is she? Are you lost?”

Sarah hopped down off the bench and smoothed out her blue with white polkadot dress. “I live here…” she said simply and walked past the old women who did not know what to say anyways. She glanced at the young girl in line with her dad at the cotton candy stand; the girl looked a lot like her and this caused Sarah to think about her own dad, or lack thereof.

Sarah walked around the park for a little while, watching the various couples come and go. In one particular corner a family was gathered talking amongst themselves; it didn’t appear to be a happy scene, she assumed someone had lost something valuable or that it was stolen. They stood in the ominous glow of a particular red light; their once vibrant white skin now dulled as if they were standing in a bathroom of an Amsterdam opium club. During the daytime the customers invade the confines of the park with their smiles and fashion; the inhabitants glare at them as they pull levers and make change. This momentary truce ends with the start of the darker half of the day, and they enact their revenge.

“Sarah! Get your ass over here”

“Coming, mom”

Sarah wandered back over to the cotton candy booth; she smoothed her dress before looking up to the woman inside.

“How much have you made so far?”

“Enough…”

“Bullshit! You little bitch. I haven’t seen you bump into one person all day. You have the skill Sarah; it’s up to you to use it. Those people out there don’t really like you, despite what they say” the woman in the cotton candy booth hissed at her young daughter.

This didn’t faze the young girl, another day as usual.

She turned and wandered off into the shadows, navigating different back allies until she came to the Gravitron. The sign taped onto the fencing around the ride said ‘Out of Order’ but Sarah continued past into the boarding area. With one hand she deftly pulled and rotated the handle in the centre of the metal door, which caused it to pop out slightly and rise up into the air revealing the entrance to the ride. The light was on inside and a middle aged man was sitting on the floor smoking a joint lazily. Seeing the girl he stood up and walked over to pull her into the ride before closing the door.

“Take off your pants…now.”

Sarah didn’t really think about it when the man shoved her to her knees, nor when he himself took off his pants. As she watched her palms pressed up against the side of the broken down machine sliding upwards bit by bit with every thrust from the man behind her it occurred to her that the customers outside might see this as wrong. This thought however, was aware to her only when she ventured back out into the open. The park is their home, not their job; who are these people to come into her home and pass judgment? Sure the man was sort of rough, and a little older, but for the girl it beat stealing from strangers. To steal she was invisible, her mom could never understand that.

The man was now long gone but Sarah remained in the broken machine; semen drying on her thighs and a couple bills clenched in her small hands.

Article Source: http://journal.ilovephilosophy.com

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