The August breeze is cold as they queue for the ferris wheel. She draws her coat a little tighter and nervously reaches for the hand of her date. She has been on this ride many times before, but never with a boy. He pays and she sheepishly smiles as the carriage shifts with their weight.
It circles once, and then again. She peers out over the grounds, above the noise and lights of other rides, and beyond the smells of cattle, horse, and deep-fried, winter fare. It is sanctuary amid the tumult of the Ekka.
The wind picks up and their seat begins to sway. Their ride stops with them at the top. She is unsettled and can feel it creep into the creases around her eyes.
Feeling him move, she turns her head to see if he is equally uncomfortable. He is not and presses forward to bite gently at her bottom lip. She feels her tension dissolve with the soft pressure he applies, and melts. Comfort turns to lust and she hungrily tastes his breath. Their view is forgotten in desire.
A jolt as the wheel begins to move, breaking their kiss. She giggles as her senses return. He sits back with a laconic grin and she snuggles into his shoulder as the wheel continues to turn.
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