It was a cool and rainy night so I didn't think too much of the heavy mist as I was walking down the street. Looking for something to occupy my time, I stumbled into an old ballroom left over from the Roaring Twenties. The building has been abandoned for quite some time, but tonight there were lights, people and energy emanating from it, igniting my curiosity.
Instantly upon entering I was swept away from thoughts of my mundane existence. It was a frenzy of freaks, geeks, magicians and show girls, all topped off in very fine hats. They hawked and peddled their wares to the crowd that had gathered while the smells of carnival food mingled with the cat calls in the air showing that they had what was needed for any hunger you may have had. It was as if I entered the seedy underbelly of the 1920's carnival circuit.
There was obviously a show planned for the center stage, so I found a drink and a table and settled down to see what I was in for. As I sat there people watching I was joined by a lovely lady who looked as out of place as I felt. Seeing the opportunity to have someone share in my bemused perception, I offered her a drink. She took a seat at my table and the night was looking up already.
It wasn't long before we were warned of the show's beginning with the usual light flickers and the roar of the crowd faded out. As if on cue my new lady-friend leaned into me, encouraging me to wrap an arm around her for the show. I wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to cuddle or just felt uncomfortable with the feral man on a leash nearby, but I wasn't about to complain.
Then it started.
Running and dancing and swirling through the crowd were characters straight out of a carnival sideshow, or my nightmares, I hadn't decided which. Even though nothing about the night felt remotely real, I had to concede the fact that I had clothes on while most of the women were in their underwear so there was no way this could be a nightmare. Rationalization more than reasoning maybe, but it made me feel better momentarily.
Throughout the night I saw performances that both disturbed me and stirred up feelings of lust and amazement, sometimes all at the same time. My new friend seemed to be motivated by pure lust, making it easy for me to decide which emotion to concentrate on. We needed to be alone.
I asked if she would care to join me on a walk, took her hand and started looking for a way out, planning on heading back to my place down the street. I thought I knew how I got in here, but could not find my way back to the door. There was no paranoia yet, since I had been drinking I just blamed the spirits and went on wandering through the crowd of stilts and pasties.
After wandering, drinking and mingling more, she finally pulled me in another direction, taking me into a tent in the back. She obviously had the same mindset as me and found an immediate solution. Once we were alone, she had about as much self-control as I did. We ripped each other's clothes off as the passion of the night consumed us.
Wrestling, writhing and melting into each other, we gave in to our animal instincts. There was no thought, only feeling, and the rest of the insanity was suddenly miles away. While she lay in my arms as I cradled her once exhausted, I noticed them. In place of nipples she had pasties.
She was one of them.
I tried to run, to find the way out. Everywhere I turned were more sideshow freaks blocking my path. Gradually, the urge to run faded and acceptance worked its way in. I was swept back in a wave of chanting and singing. The sounds were musical noise while the air was filled with the scents of lust, liquor and manimal. Then, as suddenly as it all had begun, it was over.
I found myself lying on the ballroom floor, surrounded by broken tiles, crumbling walls and pieces of chandelier. The old building looked like it had always looked again, old, run-down and abandoned. The exit, no longer hidden from my view, was wide open. While walking home, I wondered if any of it was real.
I certainly hope so.
