The Fair

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Um well it was suppose to be an assignment for my english class and we were ment to write a piece of descriptive writing of a scene. I never got to hand it in but I quite like it so here it is!

Please comment!

PS sorry about the grammar and spelling mistakes, I wrote it very late at night.

Submitted: May 30, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 30, 2008



The rides were arranged in an awkward fashion, as though they had simply been dropped into the most convenient spot possible. They groaned with effort as they swung on weary joints, and faded motors let out a low growl as they continued to make the rides turn in the same dreary circle.
The paint on them was flaking and dull, and glimpses of the tarnish and rusted metal could be seen from where whole layers of dried paint had peeled away.
The excitement that had once come with a fresh coat of brilliantly coloured paint was now lost.
Some rides, like “The Hurricane” – As the fading sign called it – still spun fast for its age, turning its brave victims into a screaming, blurred mass. It loomed high, like an old, worn out – but still terrifying giant, and its riders distinctive shapes were melded into a single ring of speeding colours.

Other rides, like the slow turning carousel sat further away from the old, but still popular thrill rides.
It sat, like an old, worn out dog in the quiet corner of the fair – Nobody wanted to play with it anymore. Its sign was almost completely blank, its wording erased by age. The faded wooden horses and swans sat silently in their places, looking out with blank, painted eyes at the uninterested patrons, silently pleading for attention. A loud, out of tune, and slightly melancholy melody swum from a hidden somewhere within the carousel’s creaking, mechanical workings, and blared above the chatting of the crowd – Still it went unnoticed.
Once a thing of carved, wooden beauty and splendour, it was now an outcast – Shoved behind the fancy thrill rides.

Soon they’d be rid of it.
The crowds stood in front of the rides in long queues, like an eager snake – Sure that their patience would eventually get them their treat. The air was filled with the sounds of shuffling feet and small mutterings as people tried to find their destined location, kicking up loose dust, and fallen bits of rubbish as they went.
Bored teenagers stood, smoking behind a sideshow stand and exchanged stolen goods. Wide-eyed children with red faces, sticky from fairy floss and fizzy drinks ducked and dived between the long legs of the crowd, while frantic parents trailed behind, lagged down by heavy show bags, stuffed toys and balloon animals, and tried to rescue their sugar driven child from being trodden on.
The ferris wheel man sat lazily on his chair – a huge, beefy man with a glistening shaved head and a sweaty face. His nicotine stained fingers fumbled as he retrieved tickets and glanced down at them before scrunching them up and dropping the tiny ward of paper at his feet, where it joined hundreds of others. Some had been there since the early hours of the morning. His small, deep set eyes occasionally drooped and he would give himself a small shake to wake up. Clearly, not everyone was enjoying the show.
A frantic woman dressed in a large, flowing red dress which surrounded her like a cloud pushed her way through the crowd, calling a boy’s name. she little, wet trails on her cheeks which glistened in the sun, and her chest rose and fell rapidly as she resumed her running. Tearing through the swarm of people with haste that could only come from a worried mother.
The woman ran past a food stall – A wondrous thing filled with neon lights and artificial flavour. Small children desperately waved money at the woman serving, and in return, were given what they desired. Large, whipped clouds of fairy floss in pale hues of pink, blue and yellow were carried around on tiny sticks, that seemed pathetic compared to the huge mound that sat on top of it, like sugary royalty,untilit was eagerly ripped off in large handfuls and spread over the laughing faces of children.
Dagwood dogs, thick with freshly fried batter, stood waiting, as a ridiculous amount of falsely bright red sauce slowly snaked it way down, reaching the end of the snack and gently dripping onto the sticky hands of its consumer.
Fresh popcorn crackled and popped as it was heated gently, before quickly being scooped up into folded paper boxes, which carried red and white stripes on its outside.
Below the stall, a rubbish tip was forming. Hundreds of discarded wrappings lay, as they were slowly trampled into the ground and joined by more of their kind. Bins stood by, with litter pouring out the top, and slowly cascading to the ground, like some sort of grotesque fountain. Small dogs, and occasionally rats crept cautiously towards half eaten doughnuts, or a lone toffee apple, which lay like a dropped jewel – sparkling in the bright lights which adorned every surface and grew brighter as the sun grew lower.
The sun was growling lower, but still the owners of the side shows coaxed in their customers, with cheery promises of a stuffed animal, or possibly cash. Their throats were hoarse from a days yelling, but still they retained their welcoming stance.
Emotionless clowns stood in a single line, turning in synch with each other, while hopeful players pushed small, hollow balls inside the gasping mouths – Only to walk away empty handed.
Seventy or eighty plastic ducks bobbed calmly in a children’s swimming pool, hiding their selected number which had been neatly printed on their underside in permanent marker. Their frozen, beaked smiles and painted eyes, which were worn after so many years, gave no hint.
Their quaint faces deceiving in their innocence.

© Copyright 2018 Anna Banana. All rights reserved.

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