
How can something so seemingly mundane reflect
innocent excitement and seem sinister at the same time?

the spirited child chose the galloping black horse
the shy child chose the painted blue seats
the father chose the smallest horse for his daughter
the mother chose the stationary horse for her son
the grandparents took photos from the other side of the gate
the mirrors bounced distorted reflections in spirals
and the tinny music was ever so slightly off key
I wondered if I was having a flashback, an allergic reaction
or the most lucid moment imaginable.