The Amusement Park
The Amusement Park
My sister and I slide into the parking spot in the middle of the lot for ââMuzement Pier.â Weâve been driving for seven hours. Just to spend an afternoon at the closest amusement park to our house. I canât even remember the last time we visited one. Itâs been close to a decade.Â
âIt felt like we were in that car forever.â My sister said as we got out of the two-door sedan.
âI blame the nonstop country music you forced me to listen to,â I stretched my back and legs while shutting the car door.Â
âI said you could choose a song,â she said.Â
âYeah, one song. The entire seven hours we were in this cramped car, you let me choose only one song. Then it was country this, yeehaw that, howdy this, hold my beer, my dog ran away.â I rolled my eyes as I walked to the front of the car. I double-checked my ID, debit card, and my phone was in my pockets and stood next to her.Â
âWe need to take a picture for mom and dad.â She said and flipped us around so the rollercoasters were behind us.Â
We showed our teeth and I held up a peace sign. She snapped the shot and sent it to our mom who responded with a thumbs up.
âOk, whatâs our first stop?â I ask walking toward the entrance.
âProbably the SooperDooperLooper, so we donât have to do it later after we eat.â She said.Â
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I felt the need to write. And so I did. I had no clue what was going to happen until it happened. Now Iâm sad.Â






















