He sat crying and sweating in the corner of the seat – his face contorted. Michelle couldn’t resist a man in distress, “Whatsa matter, huh? You scared? I’ll sit wit you, hun.”
He sniffled as they rose, “My boyfriend . . . my dad . . . my mom. It’s all over.”
“Ain’t never over, hun,” they rose higher and higher.
“Here,” he shoved a piece of paper at her and jumped, rocking the gondola violently. His head hit the edge of the ferris wheel just once, but the midway was closed for two days afterward.