Post by ELIJAH LENSKA on Nov 21, 2011 23:56:09 GMT -5
In one of the many open and available places in Central Park, the circus was in town.
The traveling performance group had erected a great tent, colored the customary red and white and domed and higher than most of the trees in the park itself. Around that bright focal point was scattered the proper workings of a traditional carnival: cotton candy carts, rigged games, Ferris wheels, the entire works, all brightly colored and fully operational. It was mid-day, and around the entrance to the grand circus tent, a myriad of excited children and curious adults were lining up for the coming performance.
Behind the scenes, hurrying about the smaller performers' tents behind the ring, was the ringmaster, half-dressed and harried, a pocketwatch open in his hand.
The man ducked his head into one of the nearby tents, and, spotting its occupant, shouted, "Lenska! We're starting in ten!"
Elijah Lenska, acrobat, had been stretching prior to the disturbance; his legs were out in front of him and his entire body was bent in half, cheek pressed to his upper shin. His hooded blue eyes flickered to the ringmaster, and he smiled, radiating calm.
"Of course, sir," he drawled in his thick Eastern European accent. “I vill be ready ven I am needed.”
“Good.” The ringmaster departed in a flurry of fabric, leaving Elijah to continue his pre-show stretches.
===
“And now!”
It was mid-show. The formerly-flustered ringmaster, with tophat and glossy red jacket, stood in the center ring, grinning and red with the heat of the action.
“Presenting!”
The crowd was tense with excitement. Popcorn and candy was scattered over the ground and the whole place smelled like sweat and elephants.
“Our own acrobat....”
Elijah stepped to the edge of the platform so many feet above the ground in his flexible, skintight costume, and awaited his cue, a tiny smile stretching the skin of his heavily made-up face.
“Elijah Lenska, the Spirit!”
It was a tacky stage name, especially considering who he was, but Eli hadn’t chosen it, and Ariel seemed to think it was hilarious. In fact, even as the ringmaster spoke the title aloud, he could hear the fictional spirit snickering quietly in the back of his mind.
He muttered a prayer under his breath in Hebrew and took a deep breath in and out as he felt the heat of the lights concentrate on him. This was it. The familiar rush of adrenalin came to him, and he grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
And then, he leapt.
For just a moment, it seemed as if he was going to fall forever and crash into the ground, but he did not. Instead, he grabbed a trapeze without a blink of an eye and swung across the chasm, flipping and changing trapezes and spinning and letting go and grabbing on again. His body moved seamlessly through the air like he was simply meant to fly, and, undoubtedly, it was beautiful.
Elijah’s thoughts were filled with pure bliss.
The traveling performance group had erected a great tent, colored the customary red and white and domed and higher than most of the trees in the park itself. Around that bright focal point was scattered the proper workings of a traditional carnival: cotton candy carts, rigged games, Ferris wheels, the entire works, all brightly colored and fully operational. It was mid-day, and around the entrance to the grand circus tent, a myriad of excited children and curious adults were lining up for the coming performance.
Behind the scenes, hurrying about the smaller performers' tents behind the ring, was the ringmaster, half-dressed and harried, a pocketwatch open in his hand.
The man ducked his head into one of the nearby tents, and, spotting its occupant, shouted, "Lenska! We're starting in ten!"
Elijah Lenska, acrobat, had been stretching prior to the disturbance; his legs were out in front of him and his entire body was bent in half, cheek pressed to his upper shin. His hooded blue eyes flickered to the ringmaster, and he smiled, radiating calm.
"Of course, sir," he drawled in his thick Eastern European accent. “I vill be ready ven I am needed.”
“Good.” The ringmaster departed in a flurry of fabric, leaving Elijah to continue his pre-show stretches.
===
“And now!”
It was mid-show. The formerly-flustered ringmaster, with tophat and glossy red jacket, stood in the center ring, grinning and red with the heat of the action.
“Presenting!”
The crowd was tense with excitement. Popcorn and candy was scattered over the ground and the whole place smelled like sweat and elephants.
“Our own acrobat....”
Elijah stepped to the edge of the platform so many feet above the ground in his flexible, skintight costume, and awaited his cue, a tiny smile stretching the skin of his heavily made-up face.
“Elijah Lenska, the Spirit!”
It was a tacky stage name, especially considering who he was, but Eli hadn’t chosen it, and Ariel seemed to think it was hilarious. In fact, even as the ringmaster spoke the title aloud, he could hear the fictional spirit snickering quietly in the back of his mind.
He muttered a prayer under his breath in Hebrew and took a deep breath in and out as he felt the heat of the lights concentrate on him. This was it. The familiar rush of adrenalin came to him, and he grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
And then, he leapt.
For just a moment, it seemed as if he was going to fall forever and crash into the ground, but he did not. Instead, he grabbed a trapeze without a blink of an eye and swung across the chasm, flipping and changing trapezes and spinning and letting go and grabbing on again. His body moved seamlessly through the air like he was simply meant to fly, and, undoubtedly, it was beautiful.
Elijah’s thoughts were filled with pure bliss.
