Cosmic fate

Ten more minutes, I thought, glancing around the carnival. Ten minutes and then I can get out of this nightmare and go for a drink. I hauled one of the milk cartons up in front of me, and began stacking the plastic rings from the Ring Toss. This was the last year I’d volunteered for the games. Next year, I’ll sell tickets or something that doesn’t involve snotty kids screaming

because they didn’t win a plastic frog.

The sky was several shades of amber in the wake of the setting sun. I loved summer. And despite the disaster of this year’s Ring Toss, I always looked forward to the annual Shriners Carnival. I always volunteered. The money went toward revitalizing the parks and play- grounds in the area, places I used to go to when I was a child.

Every year held surprises, from the old friends who came back for the night, to the local celebrities who turned up in support. Last year, we had an Emmy Award winner perform an impromptu concert. This year, my surprise was the very reason I ne