Cobra
        by cheryl losch   (closch@Writing.Com)
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Marcy looked at him as if he had just sprouted a second head right there in front of her. “What? Are you insane? Look at me,” she held out her trembling hands. “I’m still shaking; I can’t stop. I’ll never do that again.”

Jason took her hands in his, still grinning from the speed rush, “It’s okay Marce, you’re okay. It’s over. But I still think it was great. I’d do that every day if I could. I can’t believe you’ve never tried it before.”

“You really are insane,” she said as her right hand left his grasp and moved to her stomach. “I still feel sick. I was so sure I was going to throw up after about the third turn. It was all I could do to hold it in.” She looked back with trepidation as if the monstrosity she had just left could reach out and seize her once again.

“Let’s walk. Take your mind off it; you’ll be fine in no time.”

She took a deep breath as they walked along the path, slowly releasing it as she looked at the sights surrounding her, her shaking finally under control, her stomach calming down with each step.

As they turned the corner Marcy froze, “No. Not another one.”

“And it’s even bigger than the first one,” he looked at her with an evil glint in his eye. “Want to try this coaster with me?”

“Whoa, no way you crazy maniac. I’ll wait here while you ride the Cobra, or whatever this one is called. Then we’re going to go find a nice safe merry-go-round, maybe some good old cotton candy, maybe go shoot a few metal ducks in the arcade. And we’re going to ignore every single roller coaster we see.”



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