the saga of the big wheel

when it gets dark it turns cold. cold and lonely. and while being lonely memories become vivid. especially on the very top, in the topmost gondola it seems as if the mist freezes while embracing the wind to first carry thoughts and then withdraw them at once.

memories appear of a time where the park was still colorful, where voices of people twisted around the big wheel like a carousel—even faster than they would have been at full speed. The Sundays in springtime were especially beautiful. Those days where the sun vitalized the earth and attracted numerous people to occupy the city and its river. and sound of children's voices accelerate the wheel a little bit each time they cheer in the topmost gondola.

But the big wheel has not turned since a long time. It all started with less people coming, even on beautiful days. furthermore, some of its friends have been disposed, such as the roller coaster or the catenarian carousel. Finally, nobody came to ride the big wheel anymore. Sometimes only a few people passed by the fence and looked into the park. "Eerie" they said to each other and shook their heads while admiring the mirthless wheel that was still facing the wind and looking down to its wrecked friends.

On one of those cold and lonely evenings once again the wheel was looking sorrowful toward the city. It could see those towers that had taken away its prominence of being a landmark, as well as the glow of yet another buzzing night without sleep. All of a sudden it knew what to do. What the park needs is a part of the city's life. but Therefore the wheel depends on its friends—slowly the brainchild started to grow. people would need a reason to come back to the park. Maybe it would be best if they stayed there, for good. Thus, one has to build a house, a house that furthermore provides shelter for all of the wheel's friends. And when the people take a look at the house they should also see the wheel. Hence, the big wheel set forth to communicate its plan to the other fun rides, dreaming that maybe sometime, somebody will ride in the gondolas again to view the silhouette from the topmost point—and the city would reflect its visage through the floating river.