“Help I can’t get off”
A child’s voice was calling outside in the darkness. It was early and the morning was cold with a veil of mist all around, autumn was setting in. The voice had woken Bob, surely someone else could hear it. The cries for help persisted. Bob quickly dressed and left his room in a hurry, concerned.
By now the cries for help seemed further away, further down the street, Bob followed the sound peering through the early morning half-light until he reached a small park.
He never expected what he saw, the strangest thing. A carousel, its wild fairground music playing loud and shattering the silence. Evil-looking horses galloping through the mist and there holding on desperately a child alone.
“Help me I can’t get off”, called the child once more.
Bob leaped upon the spinning ride, struggling to get a hold and keep his balance. He looked around trying to get his bearings as he spun. The child was gone yet the calling continued. Clambering high onto a speeding horse Bob found himself holding on for all he was worth.
“Help me I can’t get off” still a child’s voice calling into the early morning gloom.
Bob realised the voice was his, he tried to remember how long it was he had been in this place. He couldn’t, he held on tight.
“Help me I can’t get off”, cried Bob.