Aaron sits cross-legged in the center of a utilitarian merry-go-round. He’d returned to his elementary school, years later, in a depressive state.

It had all gone wrong, from birth to sixteen. He hadn’t seen much of the world in general, but he’d seen too much. Discoveries were forced upon him; milestones not of his choosing.

Inside a wooden carcass his parents doze in a drunken stupor. Aaron knows they’d tired themselves out fighting over who drank the last drop. Today they kicked him out again because they hated him when the bottle emptied. He’d have about two hours to become a man.

When he first took notice of them, they didn’t seem right. He sensed two, but not a pair. He didn’t know who to feel sorry for, but they did. Themselves.

Now here he is in the middle of a spinning disc. His world flies by like winter smeared sideways. Where it stops only he would know.

The ride squeals to a halt. Aaron’s dizzy eyes face south. He knows he can’t wait for a rainbow to find him. He has to find his own.