The Funfair

The cacophony of differently pitched screams, screeches and yelps are piercing through my eardrums, like the Tower of Babel. However not all of what I can hear is beastly. The cheeky giggles of children and the low-pitched laughter of the adults bring a massive smile to my kindle face. I’m deafened by the stall-owners and barkers and their cry for customers, “hook a duck and claim a prize!” one would belch out, or “go on have a go-shoot the cans and win any big cuddly teddy bear!” another stall owner will bark out. The cries seem to work, as elated customers approach the heavily decorated stalls.
Looking round, I notice one stall with diminutive, alluring goldfish caged in miniature plastic bags with insufficient water. Suddenly I don’t feel as merry as I did before. I wonder how they’re feeling? What must it be like to look at the world from inside a plastic bag? I marvel about where the money will go? I hope the stallholders will make them buy a bowl and food.
As the dearly held assumptions slowly strengthen, my attention is averted to a petite, slender, young boy sprinting towards me. It then becomes crystalline that this teeny boy running towards me is my older brother. “Come on! Lets goooo!” he raves and violently lugs me to the direction of the dodgems. Both huffing and puffing, I rushed to the lurid little cars and yanked my brother out from the steering wheel. The seat was still warm and I strapped myself cosily into the driver seat. In delight anticipation, I gazed around like a chicken’s head bobbing round at my dodgem challengers. Already I’m certain I can bump my way to victory.
As the jarring buzzer alerts me to jostle my inattentive brother to push hard on the pedal, we zoom frenziedly, straight forward. Just the few seconds later, we came in contact with our first gritty rivals. BANG! The tiny car shatters to an abrupt halt. Whilst my fragile body is vibrating vigorously, I remove my thin, brown hair from my distraught face. The impact of the...