Grade 4

Picture your six-year-old self, in onesie pajamas (or whatever you wore when you were six), falling through a purple sky with orange clouds. Until you land, in a carnival – broken, tilted Ferris wheel on one side, dusty, abandoned carousel, chipped paint, fading, on the other. You see the gates open, and the buttons for the carousel are exposed in front of you, so you approach, teddy bear in one hand, the other outstretched to turn on the machine – when grey, translucent spirits, begin to swirl around your head.

Jazz BandStraight 8thsChelsea McBride9:004/465




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