The Power Surge at Rainbows End By Toby

Cold surges of impromptu wind viciously infiltrates my frothy mouth, while blurs of glimmering white clouds stream past me.

I touch the slippery bar with my hand shaking violently of nervousness of a rare mechanical mishap. Wafts of air smelling like oil that obviously came from the somewhat tedious spinning mechanism hastily entered my nose.

But my brother was somewhat oblivious to the stench, in order to listen to the mechanical whirr, as if it was music to his ears.

The blue sky above me is astoundingly shiny and like I am ond the edge of blindness. But then I think, how did my brother talk me into this?