Lemonhead Ferris Wheel

I was at the top of the Ferris wheel when the power went out. I twisted to see if it was just our ride, and half my Lemonheads slid out of the box, pinging off metal struts as they plinko-ed down to the pavement, where lights still flashed and other rides still whirled and music still tinkled and tooted promises to amuse. Farther down the wheel, someone spilled their drink, and a wave of cursing rose above the general commotion. “Sorry, it was just water!” the spiller yelled down, and a wet person growled back, “Okay.” It had been a scorcher of a day, but now I swung my legs as a cool breeze riffled my hair, and a child’s voice floated up from the ground thanking the Ferris wheel for the candy. I tipped the rest out of the box, and a tiny cheer rose up as the Lemonheads pinged, and I wasn’t in any great hurry to be rescued.