Circus Doll

Afterglow

  Everything was destroyed. The Hullaballoo Circus had been burned to the ground by a terrorist intruder. He wasn't properly identified, so the entire circus family was at unease.
  Mike Morton lost his beloved show, sincere audience, and applause. As a juggler, he wasn't the biggest act, but passionate and much appreciated.
  "Mike!" A familiar voice called. He looked up from the torn posters and ash-covered ruins. A thin girl with short dark hair approached him, wearing a determined look.
     "Margaretha!" He called back.
"Have you seen my gloves?"
"... No, sorry." It was a shame. Those gloves had been given to her by the master magician. Being so timid, it was a rare thing for her to receive gifts from anyone, including the audience.
"That's alright," she sighed, hanging her head. "They're just a pair of gloves. At least I'm well and unhurt."
She played with her hands. "Did you lose anything to the fire?"
  Mike thought for a moment. "Nothing big. I got my tricycle out in time, I lost some costumes, but other than those I have everything work saving.... I'm real sorry about those gloves, they seemed to mean a lot to you."
  "It is hard to get over, honestly. But I'm really fine."
  The sunset was coming to an end, and Mike had to go home like a good boy would. "Sorry, I have to go home now, my mother would be waiting on me had she been there," he said with his beloved grin.
  "Alright, I understand."
  "See ya Margaretha."
  She looked him long in the eyes, smiling. "Call me Marge."
 
Mike walked to his small "performer house" thinking of that. He rarely talked to Margaretha. There were many other dancer girls in The Hullaballo, they did beautiful routines together. Yet Marge was someone different.
  In his bed, he lie awake thinking. He couldn't shrug her off.
  Is this love?