The Circus

DSCN0771 (1)The field was dry, bristly grass. It waited simply, as only an empty field can wait, for what was to come.

As promised, the annual circus arrived Thursday night and began setting up for the first show, scheduled for Friday evening. This spring was much hotter than usual, but still quite temperate for late April; the cirkies sweated no more than they were used to as they set up the big top and all that came with it.

But no one was prepared for the diabolatry later in the weekend, save the escapist.

And by the end of it, only the single shotgun lying in a drying pool of sticky red blood knew the whole tale.

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