>The Swing

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He entered the garden and let his vision drift across the landscape, the slide was spiked and the kids ripped their bottoms apart as they slid downwards, their clothes red with their blood, their bottoms a mangled mass of young flesh and blood, they died as they reached the end of the slide, crying out a frail cry and falling upon the heap of the others who had taken their turns before them. This did not seem to bother the other kids who were clamoring for their turn on the slide.
The merry-go-round had become a centrifuge and was smashing kids out onto the walls of the garden where they stuck as a mangled mass of bright clothes, young muscle, ligaments, blood. The flowers in the garden had withered away into the afternoon breeze, and the setting sun was fast dissolving into the haze on the horizon. The garden has three things to play on, the slide, the merry-go-round and the swing. The swing was solitary, not the usual pair that you find in most gardens, and unlike the other two toys this one seemed to be alright, nothing wrong, a tall frame from which the chains were suspended that held the plank over a foot above the ground. He walked towards it, for a moment it looked like a mist had suddenly appeared above the tall frame from which were suspended the chains, it made him stop and consider his decision for a while, but the mist appeared to be thinning away, he walked on. The swing creaked a little under his weight, he began giving himself swings, first slow and serene, slowly pushing the ground beneath his feet. He went back and a sudden gloom took him in it’s grasp, a gloom so dark that he felt like being on the slide. But the swing moved forth and an equally strong elation filled his inside and the flowers seemed to have blossomed again, the feeling exhilarated him and he pushed the ground beneath his feet harder, his time he was pushed into an even darker gloom, the intensity increased with the increase in the amplitude of the swing, the elation was equally strong, it made him forget the gloom and made him push harder, with each swing he would curse himself for having pushed so hard and then forget it in the moment of elation, but when the gloom took over he would not forget his elation and his mistake of pushing the swing harder. He continued to swing and did not stop.
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