It was Saturday night, dusk
Was setting on the carnival.

The sky was a smear of oranges,
Pinks and purples,
While the sun was melting into the horizon.

He clenched her hand
And dragged her along,

Rushing to get in line
For the bumper cars.

Swearing at the trash
On the ground,

Kicking it aside
Like it means nothing.

The seat belt has been worn,
Tearing at the edges.

The sides had frayed,
Leaving behind strands of fabric.

She squeezes into the car
And he wails.
“I want that car!”

She slumps out,
Tripping over her shoe laces
And she climbs into another car.

The vibration of the car forces
Her in his direction
When the electricity starts moving through the cars.

She tries to steer away,
Crossing her fingers she won’t crash.

The wires from the car spark,
The air kindling the electricity.

The sun vanishes behind the trees,
Pink and purple clouds take over the sky.
She smacks his car.

When it's all over he darts
Away, leaving her there alone
Battered by the bumper cars.