THERE’S NOTHING LIKE BEING THERE

A  family outing: we go to the circus. And high above the sawdust ring, beneath the stretched deep-blue dome of the big top, we take our seats and wait.

Wait for the magic to begin.

Laser lights play; music pounds; the tent quickly fills.

All around, in an eager sea of popcorn and candyfloss, children’s excited voices bubble with laughter.

Vendors work the aisles.

One row all buy glowing light sabres and happily carve the air: we opt for a spinning windmill of rainbow lights. Mesmerising. Hypnotic.

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