Venetian Carousel

The flashing lights fill her blue eyes as she brushes the blonde curls from her cherubic face, and stands almost-patiently in line with her handful of tokens. The sign says “Venetian Carousel”, and it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. If she stands on tiptoe, she can see over the shoulder of the girl in front of her, and she is trying to decide which animal to ride. Horses in every color stand ready to run; but horses are boring. A zebra with black and white stripes looks inviting, though all she can see from here in the line are his flanks, and the red ribbons in his tail.

She shifts from one foot to the other in her excitement, and almost drops her tokens surrendering them to the tall boy at the gate. Running quickly for the steps, she takes a quick turn around the first level of the beautiful carousel. The red and gold benches are cool to her touch. She smiles at a black seal with a blue saddle, next to a black and yellow dragon with bright red spikes. A blue dolphin and a long-eared hare stand side by side, ready to race around the track, and she laughs with glee at the princess cars and the teacup ride, before mounting the steps to the upper level.

Her heart pounds in her throat with each step. She is a little afraid, but holds tightly to the railing, and finally makes it to the top. A white-faced panda greets her, as she weaves her way through more horses, a lion, a seal and a red and brown dragon. Then she sees him. A blue and white seahorse stands before her, sparkling in the flashing lights—the most beautiful thing her seven-year-old eyes have ever seen. His orange and purple saddle is just low enough that she can scramble aboard. She hugs his great, strong neck, and shivers with anticipation, as she cranes her head to see her grandpa down below.

She starts to wave in his direction, but the bell rings sharply, and she grasps tightly to the pole. The music plays, and the carousel begins to move. Laughter rings out all around her, and it feels to her as though the black horse behind her is gaining ground, but she knows her seahorse will not let him pass. She closes her eyes and imagines she is racing through the ocean on the back of this beautiful creature.

Soon the music slows, and the carousel stops. The race is over, and she has won. Kissing her seahorse goodbye, she bounds down the stairs to the winner’s circle in her grandpa’s waiting arms.