Carnival

A cavalcade of juggernauts rolled into the park in front of my flat to construct a fun fair today. I watched from the window the boiler-suited men unload an assortment of garrish structures and light-bulb encrusted totems from their mobile containers, initiatory rites that would ensnare the coming children, soon to coax them into the hallucinatory world of riotous illuminations. Three hours later revolving carousels emblazoned with flourescent paint lit up the fields and the dry echo of toy shooting galleries resonated through the trees. Sticky streaks of candy floss would daub every hypnotic coin-op machine as parents exposed their wallets to the whim-inducing pantomime of colours. Later my eyes located the rear wall of a haunted house portraying the hideous clownface snarl that would confront me for countless nights ahead. Yellow-blue shafts of light strobed across the pavillion as I retired to a forced sleep.