(Just published by the most excellent Nightmare Magazine)…click on the link for the entire piece
The Faire gates swing wide to the tune of a jester and fairy blowing bubbles the size of beach balls. People laugh. Music drifts from every direction.
Kids wave foam swords as the tantalizing smell of turkey legs and garlic mushrooms wafts through the walkway. Laughter echoes from the mud pit; a juggler drops a flaming torch and the crowd cheers as if it were intentional. A troubadour plucks his lute, an apple-throwing jester laughs behind a basket, and a falcon perches lazily on a string while visitors in costume raise tankards of mead and ale. Madrigals sing from the stage.
And then—a shift. Slight at first, and deepening the farther you walk away from the sunlight and toward the shade (and trees). (more at Nightmare Magazine)
