T-shirts and sneakers whiz by in a blur of rainbow colors. Heat from sun-warmed metal radiates through our clothes. Wind lifts my hair, tangles it. The volume of her voice rises and falls as we, too, rise up and glide down, around and around.
Mother and daughter, we survey our domain. We lean to the side, fingers wiggling at the little Daddy down below. I spot a petite train. She exclaims when she sees a playground. Grins are exchanged with nearby riders sharing our little bit of airspace.
Her joy in this moment is worth the nausea to come.
This week's writing prompt from Galit at Write on Edge: "This week I want you to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season- whatever you like. But don’t tell me what it is, conjure it." Our limit was 100 words.
