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  • The sun shone the day the circus came to town and everyone smiled, even Mrs C who lived in the grey, too skinny house on the corner who hadn’t smiled in the 9 years, 2 months and 3 days I’d been alive. The moment the first truck crested the hill on the High Street the beige, greyness of the town transformed in to colours so bright and so alive that my eyes had never seen the like and I brimmed over with the joy of it.

    The procession of trucks, wagons and caravans snaked down to the Town Park and I followed. I watched all that day as the circus folk poured out of the vehicles and, in a dance of graceful efficiency, made our small park in to their home. It was like a canvas fortress with the Big Top raising majestically in the centre with the booking office and candy shop to the front and the caravans, mess tent, stables and generators hidden behind it. Everything was protectively ringed by the big glossy trucks.

    I sat, watching for so long that the afternoon sun blurred in to evening dusk before I noticed how late it was. When I stood up my legs cramped from being in the same position and I had to massage my calves for ages before I could get enough feeling back in to them to walk home, still smiling.
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