Takes a while to catch the tune. Bells clatter over the cadences. Holding tight to the golden gallopedes we glide around towards a sunset horizon we will never reach. 'All the nice girls love a sailor' mixes with snatches of conversation left syllabic back there as we circle on and on and on.
I just catch sight of it before we are taken around again towards the sea and the freedom of the open sky. All in that moment, it happened, a frightening snapshot that made us all overreact and duck for cover. They run out of the beach shop, delighted with their gifts. The girl is waving a spinning whirligig windmill. Her smiling brother aims a machine gun at us with ruthless intent.
'Liberty Bell' trips and stutters as we climb down the wide curving planked steps. The boy waves the gun over his head in glory. Two girls dressed identically march by in time. Laughing out loud, they salute him.