He mourned the loss of summer just like any child. No more cotton candy, corn dogs, or raspberry- blue snow cones. The end of fairs, festivals, burning heat, and red sunburned skin aching for shade.
His sorrow was deeper, of course, because there was more carnival food behind him than ahead. The carousel's song had whirled through his ears more times than he could remember, and he was starting to lose the sound.
Then, again, he was still here. He still had time for another ride on a rickety roller coaster ratcheted together by dentally-challenged men. He still had time for another funnel cake...perhaps next year.