He’d enjoyed the swings, but now he seemed uncertain, so until the roundabout gathered speed, I paced alongside the undulating red and silver horse.
The second time around I saw his expression relaxing from angst to delight.
And the next time I looked he was chatting confidently with the pretty little girl on an adjacent unicorn.
“Again” he pleaded, when the ride stopped.
This time he joined a group of older boys on a row of gleaming Harley Davidsons.
Reassured, I took my eye off the ball, and then he wasn’t there.
It’s not true what they say… about swings and roundabouts…
Our genial host has now officially retired. My very best wishes to you Rochelle for a long, happy and productive retirement. I hope the B-B misses you … I know we at Friday Fictioneers would.