Carnival

The day went by dry as desert muskrat; the air was thick, like slow moving syrup. Though the weather was anything but enjoyable, Father tore me away from the heavenly chill of the AC to go the carnival. Through the heterogeneous mixture of whining kids and bad dental hygiene, I there I found life; life that has been deep fried and powdered with love and happiness. Standing in line was worth the sweet texture and heavenly aroma of  the cake from a funnel. But then, it happened: Father saw a mechanical demon he called "the roller coaster." I begged Father that we stay away from this horrific machine and go play a game. He insisted that it would be great. 'The Fun', he had promised: the blessedness of joy he raved about; it was a lie.  High velocities of speed and fear pulsed through my veins; screaming with all of my might, I saw my dad laughing as we conquered this beast of machinery. After what felt like years of torturous screaming, the ride was over. Walking off the ride, I felt strange. The queasiness in my stomach... the light-headed feeling in my skull... that’s when I knew this wasn't going to end well. Up came my spongy funnel ,  up came whole cheese curds, up came pellets of my hot dog -- red as clotted blood. Hot acidic wave followed hot acidic wave -- each bilious spasms so horrific, I feared that my aesthetic may never fully recover. With blushes of embarrassment, Father rushed me to the car and headed home.