The metal shines. Rust doesn’t shine.
The ferris wheel looks like it belongs in a movie where everything always ends well and everyone speaks unknown foreigner words. The machines are not safe here. They shine and that hides the rust.
I still get on. Maybe it will hold, like in a movie.
Written for Grammar Ghoul Press Shapeshifting 13 #12
Second place for this little story of rusty machinery.
Raúl can make it work just fine again, give him a minute. Or two.