Rigor mortis

We stood by a carnival.

Vibrant, crowded, colourful and noisy children.
A clown juggling bottles, a fire-breathing intimidating Kenyan man and green cotton candy. Techno music blaring out with the 'dare-devil' rides, ice- cream truck music by the food stalls.

We stood by the carnival aloof from it's festivities.

I was here to see Them. Some waved joyously. Some gave awkward first time smiles well meaning nonetheless. A few gave the cool glance.

The few who remained longer. Unfailingly silent. Nonchalant as their hopes hadn't been met. As they had grown tired of the pattern of the habit. Of people.

I looked away and walked towards the Balloon Man.
I purchased all his balloons and turned to face their direction. I looked at them and set free all the balloons.

P'haps someday they shall understand.