The sea breeze is magnificent, my hair lifted and tossed behind me. It reminds me of the ocean from when I was a young girl, the ice-cream my grandmother used to buy, my brothers and sisters delving into shallow pools for crabs. I remember how happy we used to be.
The sound of shrieks fills my ears. I breathe deeply the smell of fairground popcorn, remembering the cotton candy so sweet and sticky, and the tall Ferris wheel, groaning as it slowly turned, now still as I stand atop it. My body old, forgetful and wrinkled now. I jump and smile.