The Ferris Wheel-REVISED 2026

The Ascent at Casino Pier

The boards of Seaside Heights creaked underfoot, a mile away from the surf I was too afraid to catch. I came to face the wheel— a spinning crown of iron and neon that reached for the NYC skyline.

My stomach did the work of a circus performer, twisting at the sight of the summit. I saw the shadow of Sandy in the surf, imagining the plunge, the salt water, the end. But the sun was too bright for cowardice.

I traded crumpled bills for a ticket. I argued with my own mind— Will it break my back? Don't be a fool, it's a wheel, not a whip.

The gate clicked shut. A captive of my own will. "I can do this," I whispered to the salt air, ignoring the laughter of the children in the gondola below.

We climbed. The world shrunk; the ocean expanded. At the apex, where the wind bites hardest, we stopped. I looked down, then I looked out— and instead of falling, I flew.

Wings out like an eagle, eyes locked on the horizon, I felt the drop and welcomed the rush. The fear didn't leave through thought, but through the simple, soaring act of letting go.

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