The carnival is in full swing: the Ferris wheel is packed and spinning madly, while elsewhere party goers are bouncing atop umbrellas and staring at their warped reflections in fun-house mirrors. All that’s missing is one final piece from the rollercoaster. It’s currently zooming happily along its tracks, but the single gap in its carriages cries out to be filled. I cruise through the air, soaring and circling, looking for something, anything, I’ve missed in this flat-shaded fever dream.
Hitchhikers hop onto my back as I surf the skies. So far I’ve dropped them all over this world – into Ferris wheel carousels, onto see-saws and atop plinths. I’ve even scooped them back up as they drift slowly down, umbrella in hand, after being spat out of the curious vacuum-like machines hovering in mid-air. This is a world with its own often-opaque internal logic, and I’m momentarily stuck as I try to decipher it.
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