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The wheel shudders to a stop and you set the car swinging. We are so close to the ground, you say, that we can just leap out and run any time. The blue car just above us swings with abandon.

You look at me and laugh. I never thought they would have so much gumption you say, as you point up to the elderly couple in the blue car. You wave and we think the man takes out the tortoiseshell snood and waves it back to us.

I hold your hand tight. As low as we are, we are still way above the crowds, so far above that their faces merge into one large moving organism, like an anthill celebrating sugar.

I tell you to look up through the slats at the caged expanses of sky. Look out there, I gesture wildly, setting our car swinging harder than ever. Look at the stars.

There aren't any stars out now, you say. It's too bright.

I know, I say. But look at them anyway . They are swinging for us too.

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