The ringmistress sat before her oak vanity in her cramped caravan, curling her hair. The sun had gone down half an hour ago, and the smell of caramel and candy floss wafted through the performers' trailers.
The circus had abruptly arrived the previous, warm night to set up the monstrously large, white-and-red striped tent. The local town had buzzed with excitement since colourful pamphlets had been stamped onto every shop window.
Tonight would be the first and last sighting of the circus in this town.
The ringmistress sat down her curling iron and gave the smudged mirror a long look. She then proceeded to smear her dark eyeshadow across her upper features with the back of her hands, and applied rouge on her plump lips. The dramatic eyeshadow completed her look. Her tall and generous frame was beautifully accentuated with a busty, maroon dress, paired with heavy gold jewellery and a short black hat wrapped with a silver ribbon. She was utterly mysterious and abundantly fascinating.
She hurried out of her caravan and made her way to the circus tent.
The once-empty parking lot had turned into something entirely magical overnight. Activity was everywhere. The ringmistress dodged and ducked heavy equipment being carried by shirtless, burly men with comical moustaches and loose-fitting pants. Slim, tanned trapeze artists sauntered or stretched in their skin-tight suits behind the caravans. A psychic with a heavy fur coat, peacock-feathered hat and a purple top sat upon a stack of crates blowing on her long, wet nails. Performers were everywhere, helping with everything by assuming many jobs. Fire-breathers were mending frayed tassels, horse-whisperers were helping acrobats with stage make-up, our dancers were catching a monkey who thought himself an escapee. It was a network of tightly-bound grinds and gears working together to achieve peak performance.
Slipping through the hidden flaps of the circus tent, the ringmistress sucked in a sharp inhale. Walking into the tent held even more magic than the outside. It never ceased to leave her in awe.
Locals had already begun to arrive now, and were currently lining up for popcorn and candy-floss and balloon-animals. The twinkling lights above and jaunty music playing set the atmosphere alight.Magicians dazzled crowds and winked as they performed their clever little tricks. Little boys and girls didn't dare blink in the hopes of figuring out the magic. Groups of families walked around the hall of mirrors, occasionally smacking into them. Children dragged their parents to see the ponies or the rings of fire. Loud laughter and giggles sounded in every corner.
The ringmistress smiled at the stares she received. While she was undeniably beautiful, even with her heavy makeup, she had an air of strangeness about her. As though she wasn't quite from this world, and people noticed.
She tipped her hat towards onlookers, softly smiling beneath. She crunched through the sawdust littered floor and swept up onto the stage. The fairylights dimmed as the music stopped, and the stage-lights whirled to concentrate on her.
Alas, she smiled, the show has begun.
YOU ARE READING
The Performer.
Fantasya story of a circus which follows a mysterious ringmistress with many tricks up her sleeve, a dimension-jumper with revenge on his mind, and a puppeteer who orchestrates the heist of a powerful object.
