The Circus Is In Town

Ongoing traffic oozed down the urban crescent like crystallised honey, as pedestrians languidly sauntered; their faces masked by the obsidian shadow of night. Buildings and trees melted like objects in a surrealistic masterpiece, as possessed spirits whispered through the timber sideshow alleyway. Waltzing, lamenting music bellowed from the rusty merry-go round; the ornately carved seats now deprived of use. No longer would there be the generic red and white striped tent, upheld by perpetual poles, but replaced by a rain washed, joyless, entity.