PROLOGUE
He dances as a star. His eyes never open. The circus faun, feathered and whirling, spins and prances across a across a winding stage. He carefully balances coins thrown at him from an audience, on the tips of his fingers and the point of his horn. Painted by yellow, red, and blue - he reminds the audience of their childhood birthdays, where cakes combined primary hues with beautiful pure white frosting.
Children imagine the circus faun is a dream of dreams. Dancing over the air from a trapeze, the faun still has yet to unveil those lovely eyes where they rest beneath wary eyelids, darling lashes sweeping the view from sight.
“You’re a sweetheart,” the adults swoon.
“You are always welcome. Stay with us, stay with us.”
The circus faun, nameless and bleeding in his heart, smiles and prays for the light of day, when the painful lights of the torches and electricity die down and keep their burns away.
YOU ARE READING
trapeze
Short StoryBel has to master the trapeze if he wants to suffice as the new aerialist for the Birthday Circus. He ponders how he could ever accomplish such a feat - he was born without wings and without feathers! Through the teachings of his sister Rel, chairm...
