A deep pulse of spinning waltzers burn electric thrills while pre-teens buzzed on sucrose and fried dough scream hot: they want to go faster
back on the promenade Renee and Don, eyes on a horizon, warm themselves reminiscing in circles, minds dancing under glitterball embers
further back, gapped tooth shop fronts shelter ripped tents, cold on concrete, meagre piles of trash bagged jetsam, of those stopped here by memoryβs pernicious tides and forgot