Carousels


“Burning brightly today?” The question was posed, as it was every day, by the cynical Rabbit. His ear was dented, scuffed with the years of children treating him as some kind of furniture, and he felt that was reason enough for cynicism. I ignored him, as I had been doing the past decade. One could only take so much from a personality.

The children came, and went, and the laughter with them. None of us knew, exactly, what made us alive – if it was the laughter, the innocence, or maybe just the electricity of the bodies, but we knew that it was the children. We owed them our lives, and even Rabbit couldn’t completely hate them for it.

A child wailed, and a collective shudder ran through the collection of animals. The wail took, as it always did, from us. And the cries were as daily as Rabbit’s question. As inevitable as the lights coming on, the music playing.

We saw the children, and sometimes, we saw the children grow into adults and bring their own children, generation after generation giving us life. We heard innocent babies give gurgles of laughter, and children exchange first kisses. Rarely, we saw fights. We saw the best that humanity could offer. Until the day they turned off the music and dreams forever.

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