A chairlift machine slowly carries Karina and me from one side of the amusement park to the other. The night sky, with its salty breath, nibbles our ankles.
Get Scotty Escobar’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
“Haven’t you felt weird being here?” I ask Karina as our two-person seat creeks and hums to its own rhythm.“Like, I miss home, and being here makes me sad.”
“Not really,” Karina answers, our feet hovering far above the ground. “I like the freedom here.”
I stare at Karina and her sunburnt cheeks, then at all the people below us. Loud music and flashing lights swallow the life beneath. Embarrassed by my own sincerity, all I can reply with is “— Oh.”
