Boneditch By Ian Bird

www.boneditch.wordpress.com As acrobats slowly unfolded themselves from the deep shadows of stage, turning then falling and leaping and flying faster and faster, around and around the ring, the Ring Mistress finally appeared before us, smiling broadly. They were all smiling broadly, as were we, but they had no faces, just bleached skulls whose rictus grins seemed to flicker and smirk in the twisting light. A third eye socket caught the shadows, embedded in the foreheads of each of the skulls. “Okay, those are pretty cool masks,” admitted Jude. “Welcome to the Circus Siliquastrum,” smiled the Ring Mistress. “Thank you for calling to us and inviting us to be with you here tonight…” The performance, long awaited, had begun at last. www.boneditch.wordpress.com