Therapy Bits

The old fairground woke at dusk, when the fog began to swell and the rides breathed out steam like tired animals. I followed a rusted chain through the gates, feeling a strange hook of curiosity pull me inside.

Music started to sway the air, slow and crooked, and I watched the lights sweep across the empty strip of cracked pavement. Somewhere, laughter echoed—too loud, too sudden—sending a small shock through my chest. It felt as if the place remembered hearts that had once beat faster here.

I stepped closer to the carousel, and the world went dizzy, spinning memories that weren’t mine. A sign creaked above me, peeling paint threatening to stick to my fingers if I touched it.

Then I heard a voice, soft but certain: “This is where you decide.”

I stood still, letting the moment settle, knowing that once I moved, the fairground would close again, and whatever had tried to catch me with its invisible hook would finally let go.

Wordle 735 « The Sunday Whirl