Tiny Disaster

This is what he thought after he hit the stained and litter-strewn concrete, before the bodies begin to fall: Two thousand years ago, the people standing over me would've thrown rocks at me until I was dead. Followed quickly by this thought: Because I am large, many rocks would be needed for this task.

But even though he was large, Marcus still felt pain (a fact many in his life seemed incapable of believing). He simply felt it in more places, bled from more wounds. Not only was there more of me to love, as his aunt had always declared, there was also more of him to hurt.

Pain was not the only feeling had at that moment, right before torn metal and limb-waving bodies rained down onto him. He also felt humiliated at his inability to move, to simply crawl away from this tiny disaster he had caused.

They said the ride could not fail.

They continued to say this even as the man with three missing teeth and a tremor in his tattooed arms locked Marcus into place on the carnival ride with a very nervous teenage girl on either side of him. The man's onion-and-beer breath covered Marcus as the man's quivering, nicotine-stained hands wrapped three connected safety belts around him.

Continued...

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