WARNING: Disturbing content The Circus Told from the viewpoint of a male circus audience. You live in a small town with a wide river that runs through it. Your hut is in the woods, at the edge, so that you can see the clearing and the river beyond it. One evening, you see what you were waiting for. A canoe drifts down the river, an old lady aboard. She doesn't seem to be rowing. In one hand is a rope; that rope is attached to a raft that drifts beside her, upon which a live leopard, calm and unthreatening except for its nature, lies. Behind it are more canoes, each with a sole passenger, each holding onto a raft with a live predator. When night falls, the circus is set up. A makeshift wooden stage arises near the edge of the river. Tan-colored, worn towels are lain on the grass around in no particular order, to serve as seats for the audience. You, seeing that the circus is ready, open your cupboard and take out a needle filled with liquid. You stick yourself with it, letting all of the liquid empty into your bloodstream. You take off your shirt and throw it over the back of a chair, taking a pointed black tube from the table beside it. You exit and talk towards the circus. Others gather around, all shirtless, most carrying pointed tubes similar to yours. You find a pretty girl and sit on a towel with her. All around you, the towels are slowly occupied, each with a pair of one boy and one girl, both shirtless. The circus starts its performance, and a black panther is on stage. It follows its handler obediently, performing magnificent tricks. But you aren't paying attention. The girl sitting with you smiles at you, and you know that it's your turn. You sit next to her but facing the opposite direction, and stab the pointed end of your tube into her shoulder. It wells up with her blood, and you put your face close to it, sticking the open end into one nostril. The girl still smiles as you do this. You inhale violently, shooting the blood deep into your nose. You nearly choke, but swallow and keep on snorting. The blood coats the inside of your nose and the back of your throat. Your tongue is heavy with the sour taste of iron. Blood drips around the tube and down onto your mouth, coloring your lips. And you love it, because you are high as a kite. That drug you injected yourself with is particular to this circus. The liquid also swims inside the handlers' veins; it keeps the animals at bay, so that no one is attacked. People of this town are familiar with this circus, looking forward to it every few months. Everyone comes prepared, with the drug flowing through their veins for their partners, who, by snorting it while it's mixed with warm blood, can receive the same high that they will soon share. Soon, it will be your partner's turn. She will stab you in the shoulder and you will become nothing but a fountain of blood for her to drink. You don't mind; this is what you come here for. The pleasure is great; the circus is just background. And the circus doesn't mind; but that's a story for another time.
