with a star upon her shoulder

I feel strange. Like I'm going to fly apart at
any second. I can wrap my arms around myself,
but I don't think it's going to do me any good,
really.

Last night, I went to a carnival with the
Engineer, the Wee One, and the Sensitive Artist.
It was being held in my home town, which was
strange enough for me. I don't like going back
there. It's empty and holds nothing for me.

Four tickets. Four fucking tickets. This is an
outrage! We pay up anyway and crowd into tiny
cars, two by two. It swoops down and up, side
ways. The Engineer is shouting that he's going
to be violently sick. I can hear the Wee One
giggling quite maniacaly behind me. Another
swoosh towards the ground is coming, I lean up
in my seat, as much as the g force will allow me
to, and greet the wind in my face with a
soft cry. My hair is in my mouth and I'm laughing.

It's the next day now and I sit here in my
silver rings and poppy dress. Shifting in the
seat, I watch the clock. I stare at the wall.
I examine my fingers.

I'm wondering if I'll ever feel as beautiful
as he says I am.