Better To Have A Single Perfect Diamond

The Circus Arrives Without Warning. No Announcements Precede It. It Is Simply There, When Yesterday It Was Not. Within The Black-and-white Striped Canvas Tents Is An Utterly Unique Experience Full Of Breathtaking Amazements. It Is Called Le Cirque Des Rêves, And It Is Only Open At Night.

Is It Not That Bad To Be Trapped Somewhere, Then? Depending On Where You're Trapped?" "i Suppose It Depends On How Much You Like The Place You're Trapped In," Widget Says. "and How Much You Like Whoever You're Stuck There With," Poppet Adds, Kicking His Black Boot With Her White One.

He Turns And Walks Away, Moving So Quickly That The Candle Flames Shiver With The Motion Of The Air. “i Miss You,” Isobel Says As He Leaves, But The Sentiment Is Crushed By The Clatter Of The Beaded Curtain Falling Closed Behind Him.

You Believe You Could Not Live With The Pain. Such Pain Is Not Lived With. It Is Only Endured. I Am Sorry.

You Think, As You Walk Away From Le Cirque Des Rêves And Into The Creeping Dawn, That You Felt More Awake Within The Confines Of The Circus. You Are No Longer Quite Certain Which Side Of The Fence Is The Dream.