I stood watching the merry-go-round carry children of various ages, all smiling and laughing. The metal horses and their glossy paint shining in the sunlight. I see the man who operates the magical ride smile and roll his eyes as the children scream with delight. I see him wipe the sweat off his brow with a white gloved hand.
I hear the carnival master advertising the many wonderous things of The Carnival in a loud but excited tone. I see every fibre of his red velvet coat, the gleam of a gold pocket watch hanging from his coat pocket and see his bright blue eyes flash with amusement.
I see the ferris wheel rise high above the people like a big beautiful mountain. A couple in nearly every carriage. Holding hands. Smiling. Laughing. I hear the gears of the giant ride turning in a perfect harmony and I hear the joy and happiness of its riders.
I smell the cotton candy, its sickly sweet smell attracting hungry adults and children alike. I see the vibrant colours of the candies at a nearby tent and hear the loud crinkle of wrappers as the candies are unwrapped.
I see the brightly coloured tents, hundreds of them. Red, yellow, green, blue. All different shades and none of them dull. All of them selling something different than the last. And at the centre of The Carnival was the big top. Where people went to be amazed. Where people went for entertainment.
I hear the old fortune teller telling people their fortunes. Chanting incantations. Laughing. All the fortunes are good. I see her crystal ball through the bright blue striped flaps of her tent.
This is how The Carnival looks, smells and feels.
Or at least that's how it used to.
Now there are no delighted children, no smiling or laughing. The metal horses have lost their gloss paint and have started to rust, making them look like creatures of evil. There is no longer a man operaing the ride, just an old skeleton covered in dust and cobwebs.
There is no excited shout of the carnival master advertising the once wonderous things The Carnival had to offer. Only silence. Cold, hard silence.
The ferris wheel is the worst of all. Still rising above all, it had rusted away. It now looks like a towering mess ready to collapse. The once beautiful carriages have come to a holt and some are cling onto the deteriorating structure like their life depends on it. But of course they have no life because everything at The Carnival is dead.
The once vibrant candies now look sick and dark like they have been poisoned. There is no sound of candy wrappers beng unwrapped as there is no one to unwrap them. The once sickly sweet smell of cotton candy no longer fills the air, replacing it is the smell of death and decay. In the machine that once made the delicious treat for hungry people there is a skeletal hand sticking out of the old cotton left behind when The Carnival was abandoned.
The tents are dull and grey and no longer sell anything. They just sit there rotten and decayed. Full of holes and cobwebs. The cobblestone pathes are full of moss and weeds. The big top is no longer a place for entertainment or a place of wonder. It is now a disaster waiting to happen. And the atmosphere is no longer cheerful. Instead it is errie and radiates the feeling that you are being watched. The Carnival has been like this for at least a millenia.
How do I know this you ask? Well I never left.
