Ohio

Oh, I don’t know, I suppose that Ohio’s a good place to start, as good a place as any in a story like this—or maybe back in the city, the old playground, where we’d all crowd together on the merry-go-round, and then around again to where you’ll find some of us sitting as close as

we can to the centre, and the rest pulling hard on the rails, spinning us faster and faster until somebody slips and rolls off the edge and into the dust to join everyone else, laughing.
     “You’ve got to stop,” I cry. “I’m gonna puke!”