Well, the ‘keeping up with writing my blog even though I’m not doing the photo challenge this month’ is going well….:P Not having a prompt, however difficult it was, means I’ve gone back to being uninspired…I want to write but I don’t know what about! I have looked through the un-posted pieces of writing I’ve done over the past year…and I still don’t want to post them. They are too real, but also too unreal now. Maybe one day…
For now though, here’s something I wrote in May 2006 for a school assignment. I guess it just about fits into the whole Halloween and Bonfire Night type thing…it’s supposed to be slightly creepy! Enjoy 🙂
‘At the fair
Through the big gates, covered in vivid bunting and balloons. Entering the fair to experience a sensational time. Met with the discordant music coming from every direction, eyes being dazzled by the garish colours; one thing stands out. Towering above the rest, a silhouette in the dusky sky, is the wheel. So high, frighteningly high, the top seems to move and wobble. The carts swinging dangerously as the monster wheel slowly rotates. The smell of anticipation lingers on the slow-moving queue. The smell of fear seems to radiate from the uppermost carts as they reach the peak only to return back down to safety. The sounds of the music are slowly drowned out by the insistent chatter of bolshy teenagers and the whimpering of petrified toddlers. This isn’t the wheel they are shying from; this is the scariest ride at the fair. The punters are greeted by gruesome, twisted faces with blood-red flashing eyes. Smoke billows out of the darkened doors awaiting its next victims. Mothers with their inquisitive children climb nervously into the first cars. Little do they know what will happen through the painfully slow opening doors. The cart disappears into the mist as if it is never to be seen again, just as one reappears. The smell of fear still lingers as they shakily exit the ghost train.
Further into the maze of stalls, another sight stands out. Enrobed in colour from head to toe, stands a man. Brightly dressed in garish clothes and carrying a wonderful array of balloons; red, orange, yellow…any colour imaginable. He is comforting children who are crying, by offering bigger and bigger inflatable joy. He seems to bring a kinder element to the fair instead of the monster Ferris wheel and the train of doom. The clown stands hour upon hour smiling to the passers-by warmly, secretly wishing he could break away silently to experience the fear he’s smelt all day.’