Valse Bleu

the old gentleman already told her “2 tickets for the fun house” and the blurs of kids running everywhere around her screaming and laughing are fuzzy lines moving in slow motion and they are an astounding reminder to her but she’s being and being like in a dream where she’s surrounded by others and she’s moving in slow motion compared to everyone else but to her they’re all moving faster and she is very very silent her bare feet step lightly and she tries to make sense of the world outside of herself
one of the ties of her dress has come undone at the shoulder
she’s blithely aware of the taunting carnival chimes and screaming excitement of the kids who are a sole movement of colors she cant distinguish one from the other they blend they blend together in whimsical motion her focus changes from the stare she’s held on the refection of what’s behind her and her unaffected gaze is met by her unaffected gaze the sounds of the laughter and cackling of clowns play with the soundtrack of the up and down notes of the Valse Bleu circus chiming and the old man yelling “2 tickets! 2 tickets to the fun house!”
And the movement of kids screaming all the motion, she lets them be nothing more and nothing less that colors and sounds that blur the and the lights of all the rides that will never cease to go around and around and around and the carnival music the music the music the music echoes with the shouts and the screams—and the sickly sweet smell of funnel cakes and cotton candy and the feel of dry face paint cracking off her cheek when she finally smiles--and it all reverberates off of her mind and will never stop and she will never move and everything else will not stop moving and this is where right now belongs.