It’s something like a freak show circus I’ve found myself in. Abandoned yet moving. The carousel spins, fragmented lullabies cracking like whips over wind.
What is this place again?
Tents in disarray line dirt paths stomped clear.
Come one! Come all! Come in here!
Something compels me, moves me, towards the red door though I’m gripped with fear. I know what I’ll find here.
A fun house of eerie sorts. A man in a chair hanging from the ceiling as he reads his paper. Fido hangs barely alive beside the growing static noise.
Here the world is flipped. My heart is ripped.
Mommy dearest carries her butcher knife.
She cackles over the static scream.
“The children are in the pie. They eat good tonight.”
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