The Fun Fair
Sitting in the car, the air is heavy and humid and clings to all of our skin. The air conditioning is whizzing in the front of the dark green van. My baby brother has condensation beads sticking to his smooth forehead, his legs swinging in the carseat. I can hear the subtle suckling on his pacifier while my mom and dad hold hands in the front two seats. My dad is driving slower than the average speed limit, on the way home from a family trip to the state library. Though the air is heavy and humid outside, there are thick gusts of wind blowing the oak trees around. As I look up, the sun blinds me as it finds its way between the swinging branches and leaves.First Grade Writing Prompts for SeasonsSecond Grade Writing Prompts for SeasonsThird Grade Writing Prompts for SeasonsFourth Grade Writing Prompts for SeasonsFifth Grade Writing Prompts for Seasons
On our way home, we wind up stuck in traffic past the local gas station. There are lines of cars ahead of us and no one is budging. My mom is cursing and smashing her hand down on the glove compartment, my dad's laughing, my baby brother crying. My frugal dad turns the car off, as to not waste any gas, and rolls all of the windows down. I can feel my body sticking to the back of the car seat, and I shut my eyes in hopes to distract myself from the heat.
I find a place of peace somewhere in my mind. I breathe in deeply, and exhale. I smell the scent of freshly mowed grass, and then something sweet. I breathe in again through my nose, and my mouth begins to water. It's the smell of cotton candy, of something sugary sweet. Then a large breeze enters through the car and my baby brother stops crying. It's the sweet smell of popcorn, of candy, of sugary sodas. It's the smell of suntan lotion and deep-fried food. It's the smell of fun! I open my eyes and peer around the car, and there in the distance, I can see a carnival. Though small, it looks promising.
"Look, a carnival!" I scream. My mom rolls her eyes. "Where?" says my Dad. I tell him to breathe in deeply. I see him do so, and a small smile creep over his face. "Can you smell it?" I said. "Let's go! Mom said she was hungry- by the time this traffic ends we'll be starving! Mom, I know how you like taffy. Can't you smell the sweetness in the air?" She didn't say anything, but I know she took a deep breath in. "She has a point there, honey," Dad said, "Let's just drive over to there for an hour or so. I know the baby would like all of the bright lights and such and we can get something to eat." My dad turns the key into the ignition, the sweet hum of the van comes back on. He wheels the car onto the dirt road, and the smells get even stronger.
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