MR. BARON'S INCREDIBLE CIRCUS

Prologue

The human mind is prone to gorging on tantalizing delights. The intricacies of our neurons and synapses are always searching for the next best thing to latch on to. These delights do not necessarily need to be new. They can be old memories, anxieties that burrow in the back of our skulls. It can be the armor of a deceased loved one's perfume, the taste of your first love's kiss, the burning sensation of when you touched the stove at five years old and learned about the dangers of the world. When the mind finds it's toy to latch on to it will not let go. For some the latch is released by creativity. For others it is planting their seed of purpose in the world. Then there are the few that are run ragged by neuro-vice and sent into a numbing spiral. The the residencies of Talonrest often gorged on tantalizing delights. The sons and daughters of once promising families drowned in herion. Laughing children egged their neighbors homes to satiate the chaotic desires in their hearts. Alcoholic fathers drank their way through the corporate madness. While abused mothers sold their Avon samples and chattered like chickens in their book clubs.

It is a sad note of fate to say that the town of Talonrest was not special in this way. Many American towns swim with souls who can not stop the gorge. Though the town of Talonrest did have one special hidden gem about it. A petite circus that drove it's wooden wagons into the town every autumn and made it's place south of the Talonrest river. The young, the old, and in between would flock to the circus. Their pockets jangled full of coins, their fingers reached out for the sweet of taste of kettle, and their minds begged for their newest gorge.

Mr. Baron was always pleased to satiate the wandering hearts. He was a man of grandiloquent height with a thick handlebar mustache that turned up with his smile. That beautiful smile full of pearly white teeth which hid a rotten tongue. His lanky frame was permanently incased in a black ringmaster's costume. Complete with a wide rimmed top hot, shiny buckles shoes, and pristine ivory gloves. In legend, Mr. Baron had once tried to remove his top hat only to find that his hair went with it. The fine brunette locks tore from his scalp in a mess of blood, tissues, and exposed brain. He screamed in agony as his body was incased by fire. His faithful circus carnies patched up their beloved ringmaster and tended to his healing. When the wounds faded the top hat was placed back on his head and he never took it off again. Mr. Baron's Incredible Circus was his indefinite damnation.

Autumn ran into Talonrest with the swoop of vibrant colored leaves and the familiar crisp chill. Mr. Baron's Incredible Circus came with it and the feast for the minds was set.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Abigail pulled at the hem of her mother's skirt. Her young fingers were sticky from cotton candy and hot dog buns.

"Abby! You're getting my skirt dirty!" Mrs. Morrison grabbed her skirt from her baby girl and sighed as she examined the stain. Children. She thought, though she was not the type of mother to raise her voice in anger. Mrs. Morrison had a gentle temperament that matched with her job as an Elemntary school teacher, her evenings spent knitting, and the divine charity work she did with her husband. The gentle mother knealed to her daughter's height.