There was a roundabout in full swing. Men, women and children, carried away in a whirling motion, shrieked and cried with dizzy laughter. The child watched them intently and then he made a bold request:
: “I want to go on the roundabout, please,Father, Mother.”
There was no reply. He turned to look at his parents. They werenot there, ahead of him. He turned to look on either side. Theywere not there. He looked behind. There was no sign of them.
“Mother, Father.”
A full, deep cry rose within his dry throat and with a sudden jerk of his body he ran from where he stood, crying in real fear,“Mother, Father.” Tears rolled down from his eyes, hot and fierce;his flushed face was convulsed with fear
“Mother, Father.”
Panic-stricken, he ran to one side first, then to the other, hither and thither in all directions, knowing not where to go
Having run to and fro in a rage of running for a while, he stood defeated, his cries suppressed into sobs. At little distances on the green grass he could see, through his filmy eyes, men and women talking. He tried to look intently among the patches of bright yellow clothes, but there was no sign of his father and mother among these people, who seemed to laugh and talk just for the sake of laughing and talking.
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