Meet me at the fair.
That’s all the note taped to her front door said.
Meet me at the fair.
An ominous invitation into a world of neon lights, traveling shows and rides.
She stared at the note. Her heartrate quickened. Her breaths shortened.
The fair.
She hadn’t been back since . . . since that last time a note like this appeared.
Only last time it was inside her locked apartment.
She had gone simply to find an emptiness among the swells of carnival goers.
Invisible among everyone.
Her screams lost in the calliope music.
Now, it summoned again.
Raelyn Pracht 