I used to love roller coasters. My family and I lived in Brooklyn, New York. Every Sunday, we would go to Coney Island. My favourite thing to do was to ride the roller coasters. The thing that attracted me to the roller coasters was the excitement of terror as I careened down the steep, rickety, seemingly dangerous tracks. The cars would be full of excited individuals old and young, sitting in anticipation of the imagined danger that we were in from the violently shaky machine that threatened to fall apart and throw us to our death. One day as the cars rattled along the track, I became aware of the.