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ninanevermoreDriving by the Ferris Wheel this morning, I noticed the Carney talking to a tall man with salt and pepper hair. The man was an imposing figure and was obviously in the middle of a dissertation of some sort on some subject that he was passionate about.
The Grim Reaper is not small, but this man had a good two or three inches on him and was rather powerfully built. The Carney looked small next to him.
The man's head tilted at an angle that said to his listener, "Now, you are getting this, right?" The Carney was listening and nodding politely, a slightly bemused look on his weather-worn face.
This conversation must have begun some time yesterday afternoon, when the Carney stopped the ride to let my uncle off. I can't say that it had been going on for the better part of the day though, because I've noticed that Time does not move in the same way around the Ferris Wheel as it does in the world I drive to work in. Sometimes time moves very fast there, and sometimes it stands still. For all I know, it had only been a few minutes for my uncle, who had stopped to have a conversation with the operator of the Ferris Wheel when he exited the ride. Perhaps he wanted to tell him how the Ferris Wheel could be designed better, or to comment on the view he had while on his ride. Perhaps he wanted to ask about the mechanics of the Wheel, but got distracted by his own musings and has launched into his view about Ferris Wheels in general or the differences he had perceived in Metaphysical Ferris Wheels and the kind you ride at a carnival.
My uncle carried a child in his arms, a little boy with dark curls of about 8 years old, who must have run up to the gate to meet him when he exited the ride. I wished I could have seen that, because in life I never got to see this child run. He was long and thin and graceful, this boy, with a masculine beauty that would have grown up to be a very handsome man if he had ever had the chance. I saw him whisper something into his father's ear and the man stopped, grew quiet, and looked at him. The boy repeated whatever he had said, urgently, and my uncle nodded. He placed his son on the ground and the boy took his large hand into both of his small hands and tugged on him to pulled him away from the gate. My uncle paused a moment to shake hands with the Carney. The Carney's hand disappeared into the giant paw of my uncle's grip as they said their goodbyes and my uncle turned toward the little boy. I glanced away to see if my traffic light had changed, and when I glanced back a second later, my uncle and his son were gone, and the Ferris Wheel was turning again.
I could see no sign of them. Time moves differently over there.
The Grim Reaper is not small, but this man had a good two or three inches on him and was rather powerfully built. The Carney looked small next to him.
The man's head tilted at an angle that said to his listener, "Now, you are getting this, right?" The Carney was listening and nodding politely, a slightly bemused look on his weather-worn face.
This conversation must have begun some time yesterday afternoon, when the Carney stopped the ride to let my uncle off. I can't say that it had been going on for the better part of the day though, because I've noticed that Time does not move in the same way around the Ferris Wheel as it does in the world I drive to work in. Sometimes time moves very fast there, and sometimes it stands still. For all I know, it had only been a few minutes for my uncle, who had stopped to have a conversation with the operator of the Ferris Wheel when he exited the ride. Perhaps he wanted to tell him how the Ferris Wheel could be designed better, or to comment on the view he had while on his ride. Perhaps he wanted to ask about the mechanics of the Wheel, but got distracted by his own musings and has launched into his view about Ferris Wheels in general or the differences he had perceived in Metaphysical Ferris Wheels and the kind you ride at a carnival.
My uncle carried a child in his arms, a little boy with dark curls of about 8 years old, who must have run up to the gate to meet him when he exited the ride. I wished I could have seen that, because in life I never got to see this child run. He was long and thin and graceful, this boy, with a masculine beauty that would have grown up to be a very handsome man if he had ever had the chance. I saw him whisper something into his father's ear and the man stopped, grew quiet, and looked at him. The boy repeated whatever he had said, urgently, and my uncle nodded. He placed his son on the ground and the boy took his large hand into both of his small hands and tugged on him to pulled him away from the gate. My uncle paused a moment to shake hands with the Carney. The Carney's hand disappeared into the giant paw of my uncle's grip as they said their goodbyes and my uncle turned toward the little boy. I glanced away to see if my traffic light had changed, and when I glanced back a second later, my uncle and his son were gone, and the Ferris Wheel was turning again.
I could see no sign of them. Time moves differently over there.
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-04 08:09 pm (UTC)Heaven just got a little less quiet. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-11-04 08:16 pm (UTC)You will be amazed how many tears you can cry and not run out. It will get better.
After 21 years, I only cry a few times a year about my mother now.
Love ya, kid.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-11 05:02 pm (UTC)