Chapter Text
The viscous fog slowly left your consciousness. It was cloudy, viscous like tar, but reluctantly gave your thoughts freedom. In small grains your consciousness returned, gradually brightening perception. Tiredly you noticed that on your face was a mask with small holes for the eyes, your hair was pulled into a hairstyle at the back of your head and on your head was a hat with cold bells. They tinkled softly near your ear, as if reminding you of something. The autumn wind chilled your hands, making goosebumps run through your body, and your fingers squeeze the stack of paper tighter.
What? Paper?
Still in a slowed down state, as if after strong sedatives, you looked at your reddened hands in surprise. They were clutching a large stack of circus advertisements. Just from one thought of it, you felt your heart clench in fear, and anxiety grip your shoulders.
You don’t understand anything. What did you just do?
Your head dropped again for a moment from any thoughts, but in a second it exploded with pain. It was as if a tight hoop was squeezing your eyes and temples, giving the feeling that you were about to explode. Your frozen fingers twitched to massage the place of pain, but they never touched the skin. As if something stopped them. And then, with a gaze blurred by pain, you noticed people passing by. Some passed by indifferently, ignoring you, others glared unpleasantly, and whispered something to each other.
You were uncomfortable.
And in surprise, one unpleasant thought flashed, or rather, understanding, when you unwillingly approached several women and held out the ad. Words flew out of your mouth hoarsely, which were supposed to interest people and make them come to the circus to enjoy the scary shows and attractions. But the women only frowned, and quickly ran away without even looking at you again.
You have no control over yourself. Your body does not obey your will, as if it does not belong to you.
Your headache was growing, it was better to focus on understanding this terrible situation. Your body elastically and actively approached a man. He reluctantly raised his gaze, and only then did your lips begin to utter the memorized words, when the man’s hand painfully pushed you in the shoulder. You are sure that it hurt, but you did not feel the pain itself. With theatrical grace, your body took a few steps back, waving its arms senselessly, so that all the advertisements clumsily scattered across the street. The man spoke rudely, indignantly, pointed his finger at your chest, and at the same time actively gesticulated. Saliva flew from his mouth, it smeared your tight, absurdly bright pink suit, and cold mask. Your body stood helplessly, pretending to be a sad listener, while your mind gradually faded.