Cirque des Anges
In Circles We Fall
Down one dark street, turn the corner, hands in pockets, hood low over the eyes, down another artificially illuminated alleyway. Shrieks of laughter and loud yells and whoops grew louder. The rising glow of lights on the horizon seemed almost like the sunrise, except there was green and blue mixed in, not just a ball ablaze with yellow light. The sense of possession had left her mind, she was back to using her own judgment, but still she deliberately tried to keep her mind blank as to not psyche herself out of finding the children.
Getting into the carnival was fairly simple, same as the last time; wait for a surge of people to line up and slip behind the ticket booth. But this time locating the tents was not as simple, all around her was a dizzying swirl of color and noise, almost more than her weak heart could handle. She took a tentative step forward and almost lost her footing as a large, robust man pushed past her in his haste to get the last corny dog at the corny dog stand. After she’d righted herself, she peered through the tinted lenses of her sunglasses and struggled to distinguish the difference in the flashing lights. Finding no clues, she decided to make a circle of the carnival and hope to find the darkened corner of the site in which the tent she was looking for would be located.
Past the food stands strung with brightly colored Christmas lights, past the petting zoo with it’s bleating animals, past the rides that made you puke till your stomach gave out, past the Ferris wheel as it rotated round and round, past the fortune teller’s stands and the kissing booths, and past the small wooden stage where some young, aspiring magician was performing his tricks for a less-than-enthusiastic crowd. A full circle and she still hadn’t found the concealed corner where she knew would be the tight group of tents.
On her next go-round of the carnival, an eerie voice floated around her head as she passed the fortune teller’s booths. She spun on her heels to catch the end of the ghostly whispered message, ”…behind the food stands will lie what you seek so passionately.”
Thoroughly spooked, Isabella kept her head lower than before and continued her trek around the carnival. On passing the food stands she glanced quickly behind the colored light but her eyes met only black emptiness. She stood in line at the cotton candy stand and continued to look for a hint of people in the darkened corner. She darted behind the cotton candy booth while the man selling the cotton candy was busy with the customer in front of her. As before, in the farther corner of the campsite was a triangle of light that was all too familiar.
Extemporaneously she ducked under the tent flap, thinking maybe they’d learned to conceal themselves a little bit better since last time someone unexpectedly popped in for a meet and greet, and said in a voice bigger than herself, “What are you really-“
Before her was not exactly what she’d imagined, not exactly who she’d imagined.
Getting into the carnival was fairly simple, same as the last time; wait for a surge of people to line up and slip behind the ticket booth. But this time locating the tents was not as simple, all around her was a dizzying swirl of color and noise, almost more than her weak heart could handle. She took a tentative step forward and almost lost her footing as a large, robust man pushed past her in his haste to get the last corny dog at the corny dog stand. After she’d righted herself, she peered through the tinted lenses of her sunglasses and struggled to distinguish the difference in the flashing lights. Finding no clues, she decided to make a circle of the carnival and hope to find the darkened corner of the site in which the tent she was looking for would be located.
Past the food stands strung with brightly colored Christmas lights, past the petting zoo with it’s bleating animals, past the rides that made you puke till your stomach gave out, past the Ferris wheel as it rotated round and round, past the fortune teller’s stands and the kissing booths, and past the small wooden stage where some young, aspiring magician was performing his tricks for a less-than-enthusiastic crowd. A full circle and she still hadn’t found the concealed corner where she knew would be the tight group of tents.
On her next go-round of the carnival, an eerie voice floated around her head as she passed the fortune teller’s booths. She spun on her heels to catch the end of the ghostly whispered message, ”…behind the food stands will lie what you seek so passionately.”
Thoroughly spooked, Isabella kept her head lower than before and continued her trek around the carnival. On passing the food stands she glanced quickly behind the colored light but her eyes met only black emptiness. She stood in line at the cotton candy stand and continued to look for a hint of people in the darkened corner. She darted behind the cotton candy booth while the man selling the cotton candy was busy with the customer in front of her. As before, in the farther corner of the campsite was a triangle of light that was all too familiar.
Extemporaneously she ducked under the tent flap, thinking maybe they’d learned to conceal themselves a little bit better since last time someone unexpectedly popped in for a meet and greet, and said in a voice bigger than herself, “What are you really-“
Before her was not exactly what she’d imagined, not exactly who she’d imagined.