This story was highly commended in the Connected Creatives 500 Words Malala Yousafzai Competition
Clear was the night; a blank sheet of black occasionally brandishing scintillating stars, winking through like pins poking through fabric . Wisps of misty, grey clouds sometimes veiled over, covering and uncovering the perfect, delicate exhibits - like blooming, ivory blossoms against the dark branches of a cherry tree.
Silence disturbed, distorted and abated carousel music faded its way into the night's air. Young children squealed with delight, clenching tightly to popcorn boxes and candyfloss sticks with their chubby little fingers, slowly being welcomed into the elaborate, majestic pavilion before them. The circular red and yellow lights fighting for their performance and show time in front of their audience; who were wandering through to the main course, rather than focusing on the minor details of the starter.
Jesse let the brush lightly touch her face one last time, a final shower of glitter for (with luck) a dazzling performance. The illumination of lights through the curtain caught her eye instantly. She sighed.
Pushing the fabric aside, her high heels clip clopped to the centre stage, her painted-on, clown smile reflecting the opposite to how she really felt. Regardless, she thrust her arm into the air with a charming smile, as she began her climb to the top of the metal ladder, the audience exclaiming with extreme enthusiasm. Feeling her breath shaking with every step, she gripped each bar tighter than the last, her hands sweating and her hair dampening. Now, standing on the top, thin platform, her legs and ankles shook in fright as she looked down at the tiny, ant-sized people waiting at the bottom, looking up at her. Taking a deep breath, Jesse lifted her head, attempting to hide her fear from the audience. She plastered a confident smile across her face once more -the crowd went wild- and produced a small, black stretch of fabric and began elegantly swirling it about in front of her, the more she swirled the larger the fabric got until each circle drawn, wrapped about the whole stand. Finally, she whipped it off and in replacement of her podium, she stood at the dominance of a tall, twirled, candy-cane carousel.
"And now..." the ringmaster began, silencing the audience into a transfixed stupor, "...Miss Jesse's..." You've got this, Jesse, "...famous disappearing act!"
She exhaled and dived exquisitely over the edge and vanished half way, without a trace. The crowd roared with excitement as she reappeared among the other clowns in the middle of the ring. They all clasped hands, raised them, and bowed over and over as the crowd applauded and praised them, roses and confetti surrounding them as the lights dimmed and they made their way to their backstage areas once more.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Jesse wiped at the makeup - the majority was gone, just occasional speckles of red and white paint, mascara and eyeliner still glued to her lashes, holding on for dear life. She shrugged, indifferent, and eased off the stilettos, her feet aching to feel some fresh grass and spots of rain consume her misery.
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