Describing Funfair

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It was a scorching hot summerâs day: perfect for a day at the fair. The sky was dotted with a few fluffy clouds that looked like candy floss.

The entrance to the fair could be seen in the distance and the long queues edged forward slowly. Customers were becoming increasingly excited and impatient as they took a few steps forward every so often. Faint music could be heard from beyond the tall gates with the occasional happy scream suddenly piercing the air. Closer to the entrance and the massive structures of the rides could be seen: a rollercoaster, a big wheel, a helter skelter. They were steel giants reaching for the sun.

Once inside, the braver kids ran towards the first rollercoaster. It zipped back and forth across the queue as fast as a bullet. Those sat at the front screamed the loudest, their eyes bulging like frogs, as the wind howled into their faces. Hands gripped the safety bars like a vice as the shuttle suddenly flipped upside down. One formerly cocky boy, immediately felt nauseous, his confidence knocked and his turned face a sickly green colour.

Below, younger children stood watching, eating their sweets and snacks. Ice creams wobbled perilously over the cones and dripped down their small fingers as they melted. Some munched on brightly coloured balls of candy floss. The strands dissolved on the tongue and the sweet sugar stuck to the teeth like glue. A few ate too much and complained to their mummies and daddies.

Across from the queues for the rides, were the picnic tables, a refuge from the madness. Families, young couples and groups of friends sipped on drinks, applied sun cream or kept a vigilant watch on their children. One harassed mum, struggled as a pack of young wolves yelped and cried around her for a drink, a snack, to go on the tea cups, to go on the big ride, to go to the toilet, to go home.
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