Fairground Attraction
The air was electric with the smell of popcorn and spun sugar, blending with the sharp tang of summer heat. The fairground stretched out like a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and churning rides, a sprawling playground of chaos and wonder.
Amelia and you stepped onto the cracked asphalt, her sneakers sticking slightly to the residue of spilled soda. Her friends had scattered, drawn to the gaudy attractions, but she lingered near the edge, where the Ferris wheel rose against the twilight sky. It was her favorite—a slow, deliberate contrast to the whirling madness around her.
The barker’s voice crackled through a nearby loudspeaker, urging the crowd to try their luck at games promising oversized plush toys no one really wanted. The ring toss was rigged, Amelia knew, but the faint hope in a little boy's face as he handed over his coins tugged at her. She watched him try and fail, the hope dissolving into a resigned shrug. She stepped forward, handing her own money to the carny, and took aim. With a calculated flick, the ring clinked neatly over the bottle neck. The boy's face lit up when she handed him the neon-green dinosaur she had won.
“Nice shot,” a voice said behind her. She turned to see a guy about her age, tall with a lazy grin and a faded band T-shirt. “Bet you can’t win another one.”
“Bet I can,” she shot back, and for a while, they were lost in the noise of popping balloons, clinking rings, and shouted encouragements.
Later, he bought her a funnel cake, the powdered sugar dusting her fingertips. They wandered together toward the Haunted Funhouse. Amelia wasn’t keen on it—the garish skeleton at the entrance seemed more silly than scary—but he convinced her with a crooked smile.
Inside, the air turned cool, the soundproofing muffling the fair’s cacophony. Animatronic ghouls lurched out, their movements jerky, and Amelia laughed at their cheapness. But then she saw something strange—a shadow moving in a corner where no figure stood.