Circus
Dazzling lights rose high into the oil-slick sky. It was a cold September evening, not quite in the depths of autumn, but verging on the edge of it. The air hung heavy, anticipation charging through it. I hadn’t been to the circus of years- I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to be here.
The leotard-wearing ladies, with legs adorned with black fishnet tights, approached me with a souvenir booklet, as if this evening would fall from my memory. These ladies had large red and yellow feathered headdresses, yet neither of the two in front of me seemed weighed down by them.
They pointed in the direction of the curtains, flapping in the sudden breeze, when a bearded man stood, indicating the entrance. I recognised him. I couldn’t place him, but I knew I had seen him before. Was this deja vu? Had i been here before in a past life?
The cold, plastic seats were crowded. hundreds of people gathered in a semi circle around a central circle that was filled with wood shavings. I knew to expect clowns, dancers maybe, and a horse … what else may a circus bring. I knew I could look at the souvenir booklet, but truthfully, I didn’t want to have a reason to leave, before it had even started. I didn’t really want to be here as it was, so I may as well keep some things as a surprise.
The show started with an acrobatic display overhead, I tipped my head back to watch their daring flights and poses on a simple metal bar. Mad, I thought, simply mad. What if their hand slipped? It didn’t bear thinking about, but as my anxiety bubbled, worrying about them, the circus master appeared through the navy, velvet curtain and a roar of applause echoed through the tent.
I disassociated throughout the whole show from that point on, even to this day I can’t remember much. I vaguely remember the leotard-wearing ladies, but otherwise, there is only one thing that vividly sticks in my mind; who was the bearded man?
