There is a painful beauty in watching the transformation of carouseled creatures becoming what they once were.
The tigers seemed to snap and snarl the most, and one of the wooden lions roared in agony as paint-chips flew from the force of his thick mane taking it's rightful place.(more) It might have brought a tear to my eye if I were capable of such wasteful emotions.
They were all anxious, wild-eyed horses stomping their hooves angry, a dragon spewing sparks restless to turn into flames, but they knew they had to wait.
The Shimmer had just begun.
It wasn't their time yet.
Oh but they could smell how close it was.
As can I.
I catch bits and pieces of events on the carousel mirrors as it continues to spin, increasing in speed slowly, building to the momentum that would send them to the Final Battle.
Which side they would take was anyone's guess.
It would be sad, I imagine, to be that little human girl. I've been around humans enough to know emotions, I just have none.
Going up against Her *and* Asmodeus is sheer madness, even one such as I recognize that.
They hadn't pulled any punches on that one, and they brought plenty of friends to the party, yet she still thinks she has a chance.
Perhaps she does.
As the carosel picks up a little more speed I feel a snap ripple through the air. That's not quite the word but something new catches my eye, something's shifting in the mirrors.
New faces are etching themselves onto the mirrors from the inside-out.
The carousel is gaining speed faster, fast enough to blur the mirrors,distort the images.
This has never happened before.
I have to grab onto the horse's rein as we fly.
“Did you see this shit?!” Maggie broadcast her disgust to anyone within earshot as she ripped a screaming yellow poster off of the bulletin board in the breezeway. The newly loosened shingles in the cache of “roommate wanted”s flapped their disapproval as she stormed by.
“Seriously(more), look.” She grabbed my arm and thrust the cheap copy in my face. I grinned.
“If you put as much time into rehearsal as you do into practicing your model pout, we’d be on posh tour bus somewhere in France by now.”
“Do you ever get tired of being such a bitch?” The fake snarl barely covered her amusement. “Besides, that’s not what I’m talking about…… This.” She stabbed her finger emphatically at a blurry byline.
“And more,” I read out loud and immediately clamped my mouth shut. It would have been better to feign ignorance and duck into the nearest life drawing class. Naked people are always a good diversion. Instead I asked the dumbest question in the world: “So...?”
“SO!?” Her perfectly lined eyes and always-glossy mouth stayed fixed in the roundness of the vowel sound for what seemed like an interminable amount of time until her built-up store of contempt was exhausted.
When she finally snapped out of her plastic form, the stabby finger had found a new target on my shoulder.
“Come on, Elly, I thought you helped organize this whole festival thing. And yet somehow we get tucked into a teeny thumbnail in the bottom corner where the only attention we’re going to get is a staple through the face?”
“It’s a fundraiser, not a festival. We’re there just to look pretty and croon sweet, cash-jerking siren songs.”