Carousel by Joanne Withers


Joanne Withers

“She’s been around eight times; I don’t know what to do. No-one’s coming to collect her…”

Tears fall backwards as I spin, the lights and sounds are sickening; electronic disco noise, kaleidoscopes of red and gold.
I catch glimpses of mothers waving, laughing as their children reappear, quickly snapping photographs. Where is she?
She tightens the harness, places teddy in my lap and smooths my hair. ‘Always know I love you,’ she mouths as the ride begins.
I beg her to take me, we haven’t been anywhere since Dad died. He always loved the fair.



About the author: Jo Withers writes short fiction from her home in South Australia. Recent work has appeared in Reflex Fiction, Ellipsis Zine, Milk Candy Review and Molotov Cocktail. One of Jo’s pieces was also chosen for inclusion in Best Microfiction 2020.

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