On a Carousel

It was like looking at a carousel.
Turning round and round. Empty.
Nothing on the carousel floor. Round and round.
Then, occasionally from the umbrella roof, a rope drops.
You know you need to grab that rope, so you chase after it.
Round and round, hoping to grab hold before it shoots back up and out of sight forever.
You get a good grip, feel your legs lift off the ground as you attempt to hold on with all of your might.
What the rope brings, you don't know. But you hang on because you need a rope.
Other ropes drop, but you hang on to this one. It's your rope.
To try grab a different rope might mean falling back to the ground.
No one wants to go back there.
So, you hold onto the rope.

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