The Carnival That Never Leaves by Daniel Miltz
The carnival arrived without roads. At dusk, the fields outside town opened, like a book remembering it had pages. Tents unfolded from the soil, striped in colors no one could name. Music drifted through the air, calliope notes that sounded like laughter played backwards.
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No one remembered inviting them. Yet everyone came. Inside the gate stood a smiling man with three shadows. He stamped hands with a symbol that looked different every time you blinked. Some said it was dancing skeletons. Others said it was voodoo dolls.”Enjoy every version,” he said cheerfully. No one asked what that meant.
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The rides were wrong. The Ferris wheel turned both ways at once. Riders waved from the top and also from the bottom, where they had never boarded.
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A hall of mirrors reflected childhood memories you had not lived. In the menagerie tent, caged animals looked almost human, and humans looked almost relieved. Still, the crowd laughed.
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Because the carnival was joyful in a feverish way, cotton candy tasted like nostalgia. Fireworks bloomed in daylight. A band played songs that made strangers hug each other and cry. Yet beneath the celebration, something watched.
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Danny, age 10, found the fortune teller last. The tent was small and breathing slowly, like lungs. Inside sat an old woman with large hoop earrings hanging from her ears and a crystal ball. ”You came late,” she said. “I just got here,” Danny replied. The woman smiled. ”No. You came after.”
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Danny looked down at his stamped hand. The symbol had changed again. Now it looked unmistakably like a witch. “What happens when the carnival leaves?” Danny asked. The old woman leaned forward. “It doesn’t leave.”
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Outside, the crowd roared with laughter as a tall man vanished during a magic trick. Fireworks burst beneath the ground. The Ferris wheel began climbing into the sky.
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”Then what happens?” Danny whispered. The woman opened a small mirror and turned it toward him. Inside were countless Dannys, standing in multiple carnivals, across endless dark fields. ”All of you asked that,” the fortune teller said brightly.
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A (Poet/Writer/Artist) at heart since his formative, bohemian years in California, Daniel draws enduring inspiration from the raw energy and spontaneous voice of the Beat Generation. His poetic journey has garnered over 1,700 accolades across international poetry forums, and his work has appeared in more than 350 anthologies worldwide.
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Artwork courtesy of Daniel Miltz
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