The bare bulbs studded around the mirror pervaded the gloom with their mellow light. Some had popped, the glass kicked under the table to join split red noses and a ripped green wig.
The mirror was cracked in the middle. Distorted reflections of the inner tent revealed discarded baggy bottoms dumped over buckets of confetti. The aroma of fresh popcorn had soured with the stale stench of tobacco.
An open bottle of cheap vodka overpowered the manure from the elephants outside. Their trumpeting merged with the roar of the lions but both beasts’ cries could not penetrate this space. Ripped Polaroids of the children straddling Tina’s back dangled from the moulded fabric of the tent. The jars of make-up once held a rainbow of colours but now resembled a quagmire.
The entrance flipped open and in staggered Coco. He belched and dragged the chair back to drop and sit.
Another afternoon. Another show.
And the show must go on.