It's warm, unseasonably warm and there's a strange smell of burning paper in the air. No, not paper something else, a smell I can't quite place. A smell like old churches, gunpowder and cooked cabbage. Not a good smell, not a good smell at all.It drifts across the years and along the high street.
I know he's here somewhere, the Autumn Clown, he won't want to miss the last night.
Look at the others, slack faced and hungry, crumpled beings waiting for the darkness and the deeds to begin.
"Roll up, roll up. It's all the fun of the fair, the greatest show you've ever experienced. Ride on the Ghost Train, dare the Mighty Centrifuge, gallop away on the Carousel Horses. Roll up, roll up. Your last chance to become part of the greatest show on Earth, Heaven and even Hell. Roll Up!"
I don't think I'll roll up this year, I don't want to go to the fair after all. I think I'll lock my door and pray instead.
Sharon Hutt on FB
ReplyDeleteI remember that fair too, although from my late teenage years as a good opportunity to get out of Aylesbury for the night!
Andrew Height
DeleteDid you go on the ghost train Sharon?
Sharon Hutt on FB
DeleteYes indeed!