Child-like Wonder

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Skyscrapers twisted towards the blue ceiling in a cone of primary colors, a gem in the eyes of a chunky faced beholder, aged four. Clouds spun in circular motion, which the boy chased with delight until his foot caught a pebble that crumbled under his light-up sneakers. Poor malt ball. Bars of chocolate made to look like cars puttered across the floor leaving cocoa skids in the grassy icing that showed a sliver of metal. Roll up vines made it hard for the boy to navigate the sweet, sweet jungle.

A man who resembled his father shredded a lollipop guitar on a stage made of fudge that reeked of maple syrup. It wasn't his daddy, though. Momma said Daddy died in the war. The man-who-wasn't-a-man's gold locks were like styled like David Bowie's Starman, and his face sparkled as night does. He sung: "Let the children boogie-" Boy, did he boogie. That no-man with eyes that rolled in the back of his head and returned from the other side contorted backwards and forwards like gravity wasn't a factor. Others joined them, people of all shapes and colors.

The little man stared in child-like wonder, shaking and jiving with the strange people of the sky on the dance floor. The boy could never eat this saucer empty. He would miss Momma, but maybe this wonderland wasn't so bad.


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