/ phantom /
a figment of the imagination
"She was like a dark wave crashing upon the bright shores of his horizon."
Anne Wheeler. An outcast. A loner. A street orphan. A disregarded, disgraced child born out of wedlock. A broken girl waiting for a s...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Anne had barely finished spooning down her breakfast when Barnum excitedly ushered her into a large room adjacent to the one she was just in.
She stood, staring wonderingly, in the doorway. Her deep-brown eyes flitted over the arrangement of cushioned chairs mounted up on a boardwalk that arched high over a patch of sand boxed in with a brightly coloured cardboard set.
"This is where everyone will perform their acts," Barnum proudly flung his arms around. "We'll have the dancers over there, the clowns in this corner and the unique oddities centre-stage so everyone can get a better look at them."
Anne furrowed her brow and cocked her head to one side. "Oddities?"
"Yeah," Barnum sighed in near-defeat. "That's what critics are calling my show - a circus full of oddities."
"Circus," Anne murmured, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I like the sound of that."
"So, is there enough room in here for you to do your trapeze?" Barnum questioned, snapping out of his sad reverie.
Anne glanced around the large perimeter once more and nodded. "More than enough. Thank you, Mr Barnum."
Barnum inclined his head to one side in acknowledgment of her statement. "I'll get some of the boys to help you set up your gear and stuff. I've got a bunch of old weights and ropes and hoops in the back room if you'd like to take a look at them? I didn't know what you wanted so I just grabbed a whole lot of stuff on sale from the tip."
Anne let out a low chuckle. "You're very kind, Mr Barnum. I'll go see what I can use."
As Anne sifted through the pieces, putting aside ones that could be rigged up and reused, she was joined by a cheery Charles, who was done up in a pair of overalls and a tiny leather cap.
"Hi," she smiled as she looked over at him.
"Hi. Do ya need some help, missus?" he queried. "Mr Barnum said ya might need a hand."
Anne gazed at him somewhat skeptically. "Well..." she hesitated.
"I might look like a damn doll but I ain't one, aye," he snapped. "Now gimme me that there hoop and I'll show you what I can do."
Anne tried to hide her smile as she loaded Charles up. "I'm not doubting your abilities, chap," she grinned. "Just don't kill yourself, okay?"
Charles rolled his eyes and sauntered, in style, out of the room, muttering a string of incoherent words under his breath.
It took Anne and Charles a couple hours to set up her trapeze set but it was well worth it. When the two of them were finished, they were dusty, sweaty and in dire need of water.
"Well, that was a piece of cake," Charles groaned sarcastically as he chugged down a bottle of the transparent liquid.
Anne smirked as she beckoned for him to hand the bottle over. "Don't drink the whole thing."
