I Mean Only That I Hope They

The Finest Of Pleasures Are Always The Unexpected Ones.

They Are Enthusiasts, Devotees. Addicts. Something About The Circus Stirs Their Souls, And They Ache For It When It Is Absent. They Seek Each Other Out, These People Of Such Specific Like Mind. They Tell Of How They Found The Circus, How Those First Few Steps Were Like Magic. Like Stepping Into A Fairy Tale Under A Curtain Of Stars… When They Depart, They Shake Hands And Embrace Like Old Friends, Even If They Have Only Just Met, And As They Go Their Separate Ways They Feel Less Alone Than They Had Before.

He Forgets That He Was Someone's Dream Once, Himself.

Which Tent Is Your Favourite?" He Asks. "the Ice Garden," Celia Answers, Without Even Pausing To Consider. "why Is That?" Marco Asks. "because Of The Way It Feels," She Says. "it's Like Walking Into A Dream. As Though It Is Someplace Else Entirely And Not Simply Another Tent.

I Have Never Lied, “ Mr. Barris Counters, Standing As Well. “i Do Not Share What I Am Not At Liberty To Say. I Gave My Word And I Intend To Keep It But I Have Never Lied To You. You Never Even Asked Me, You Assumed I Knew Nothing.