The moon was unnaturally big in the cerulean sky. I sat on my old trunk looking out the window to appreciate the beauty of the night. I spend a lot of the night awake, staring into the darkness from my window. I sometimes dream that I will have the courage to sneak out and experience the night time magic. I am not that brave. Just as I am about to turn back and get some sleep, a yellow dash catches my eye. I look closer into the woods, face smashed against my window, but see nothing. Wait. There. A bright orange flicker of light this time, like a dancing flame. There is another and another. The forest is as bright as the stars in the sky.
Is it on fire? Is that music? Tonight. Tonight is the night I will experience the enchantment of the darkest hours. I quietly throw on my old, worn, brown leather boots and my tan frayed jacket. I step up onto my trunk and,, as slowly as I can, open my window wider. It makes a high-pitched squeal. I freeze and wait for two or three heart beats, then regain my courage. I shimmy through the window and once my feet make impact with the rough grown, I dash for the forest. I follow the hypnotizing melody through the thin bush. I come upon an opening and see at least seven tents set up randomly in the clearing with a band off to the side. There are numerous peculiar people weaving about. Inside one tent, I see two alluring women swinging from ropes. It’s as if they are doing ballet in mid-air. In other tents I see a man breathing fire like dragons I’ve read about; in another a woman rides an elephant; in the last, curiously, a man covered in black drawings, is using a stick, dyed at the end to hammer drawings onto others. I eat deep fried food and drink the sweetest concoctions from small stands in between the tents. In the last tent I enter, there’s an elegant woman wrapped up in colorful scarves with a fogged glass ball sitting in front of her. She smiles at me through the only visible part of her body: her eyes. She beckons me forward. My heart hammers as I take the seat across from her. “Well, aren’t you a curious child,” she rasps. “So, what brought you here tonight?” There is a knowing look in her eye. “The music and lights.” “No,” she closes her eyes and turns her head. “This place is not seen by just anyone,” she looks back to me and removes the head dress from her face. Beneath is a beautiful woman with a striking scar that runs through her top plum lip. “You were finally ready. Go on and enjoy it,” she smiles. The woman stands and ushers me out of the tent towards the band in the center. I turn to her, but she is gone. I turn back to the troupe and lose myself to the melody played by the musicians who skin is painted and showing through their barely there clothing. I sway and feel free in a group of people who look more content than I’ve ever seen humans look. I close my eyes and lose myself. When I open them again, I look up and see light in the sky. Morning. Ma’s gonna kill me. I frantically run home and heave myself through my window. I turn around for one last look, but can’t see anything. No lights. No music. No tents. Just a knock on my door to start breakfast for my brother and sisters. Comments are closed.
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Editorial Staff
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