Break the loop

Création — Chapter Two.

I want to break my own loop.

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Joyful music played in the background.
Kids ran around.
A family passed her, their little boy excited:

“*Papa, regarde le clown !”
“Viens, on va le voir de plus près.”*

But she didn’t notice.
Her gaze was fixed.

Zita.
Eyes on the Ferris wheel.
Colorful.
Calling.
La Grande Roue.

She didn’t breathe.
She just moved.

“Allez, suivant!”
called the man.
“*Bonjour mademoiselle, un tour ?”
“Combien de tours je peux faire avec ça ?*”

Zita handed him everything she had
and stepped in without waiting.

The music rose.
Lights danced.
Et le tour a commencé.

*Elle adorait ça.
Toucher l’intouchable.
Les frissons.
La liberté.
L’impression de respirer, enfin.
De lâcher prise.
Cette sensation de libérer le contrôle.
Et de se redéfinir, encore, sans lui.
De laisser aller…*

Zita thrives on discomfort.
She knows she doesn’t fit.
Down there is noise.
Chaos.
She isn’t fleeing.
She seeks resistance.

Zita felt sweat on her palms,
vibration beneath her feet.
But she wants challenges.
She searches for nuance.

To breathe.
To doubt.
To feel.
To be.
To illustrate herself.

She doesn’t want out of the loop.
Only truth.
Hers.
The one she names, and earns.

The light above faded.
But Zita
gleamed.

Because she found her circuit.
Her Ferris wheel, vivid with essences.
*Sa propre philosophie.
Se forger à travers ses succès.*

She already knows it,
but sometimes…
she needs a reminder.

The Ferris wheel finally stopped.
But Zita felt empty.
Still.

She wanted another tour.
Last one.
“One more answer.”

But it was closing.

So she went back tomorrow.
Une dernière pensée.

And the day after…

She didn’t have more money,
but she managed.
She wasn’t dependent.

“One more view.”

She already knows all this,
but sometimes…
Juste quelquefois… She needs a reminder.

So she went again.

But –
It’s gone.

“La roue n’est plus là.”