Ian Stamford took a large gulp of air as he walked through the wide-open field spectacularly decorated with colorful tents and booths and people. All around him was the smell of popcorn and the sound of laughter. He allowed himself to revel in that sound for a moment, just enjoying it. It had been far too long since he had heard that kind of laughter and even longer since he had allowed himself to join in. Financial planning was hardly a thrilling career and him and his wife Barbara hardly even spoke to each other anymore, much less laugh together.
But as he looked around at the Somerset Circus in full swing he really couldn't bring himself to care about any of that anymore. It was as if just stepping into that happy noisy area chased all the bad thoughts away and replaced them with strong feelings of peaceful nostalgia. The circus had always been a happy place for Ian, ever since he was a young boy and had escaped from his decidedly bleak and depressing house to the vibrant and exciting land where he could eat greasy food and go on rides all day until the sun was setting and he felt sick. So, it really wasn't a surprise that when he heard Somerset would be coming to New Westminster Vancouver (which was only about a twenty minute drive from his own home) for one weekend only, he had went online and bought tickets immediately and scheduled a day off work. He didn't bother telling Barbara. If anything she would have been relieved to get more time away from him. He felt more spiteful thoughts force their way into his head but he stopped them before they could properly materialize and take away the most euphoric feeling he'd had in years. Barbara could continue draining his happiness when he gets back but this, right now, was his time.
After he pushed all thoughts of his wife and work aside he continued walking along, smiling at the people he passed and occasionally stopping at a food stand to get a deep-fried something or a candy apple. He even went on a few rides that made him feel like a little boy again, full of energy and youth and he forgets that he's actually a middle-aged man in a depression.
Ian had been walking for hours. His stomach was full and the sun was now setting and casting a gorgeous orange glow throughout the circus. It was looking like a brilliant end to the day and if he left now he would have just enough time to get back home before it was completely dark. Even though he knew that, he still felt himself hesitating. This was the most fun he'd had in years and he really wasn't ready to let that go yet. So he stalled. He walked around and visited each tent once more, ate one more thing from each booth (even though his clothes were already far tighter than they were when he had arrived), and he even managed to force himself to go on a few more of his favorite rides much to his stomachs displeasure. After he had gotten off the last ride (which had been a malicious one where you sat in a small enclosed chair and got swung in a circle until you were positive anyone within a two mile radius of the ride would get covered in the contents of your stomach) he sat on a bench until the dizziness was gone and he was sure he wouldn't be sick. Resigned to the fact that he had made the most out of his day he started in the direction of the main road where he had parked his car. He felt a deep melancholy in the pit of his stomach at having to leave the bright and hopeful circus just to go back home where it was grey and empty. As he got to the last few tents haphazardly strung up (no doubt filled with miscellaneous spare props and materials) he heard someone calling to him. The voice was gentle and somewhat quiet, although it was loud enough that there was no doubt it would be heard. It was also low and distinctly male. He looked over and saw a man standing behind one of the storage tents. He was quite tall and looked to be in his forties with a large smile on his face that looked jovial and pleasant. Ian's eyes darted between the man and the still far-off parking lot deciding what to do. He really should be getting home soon, it was already past dinnertime and Barbara would be wondering where he was. Except, she wouldn't. He and Barbara rarely ever ate dinner together these days and when they did the air would just be full of a cold silence he was sure they would both rather do without. And besides, he didn't want to go back yet. He was rather enjoying the rare taste of freedom and who knows when he'd get another day like this. He might as well milk it while he could. That last thought seemed to make up his mind and his feet lifted off the ground, taking him in the direction of the happy stranger.
