There is something seriously wrong with the local county fair.

Is it the same for you or just me?

The colors never seem as bright on signs or amusements.

The food never tastes as good and the size of the grounds seems to close in on itself.

Maybe it will be the size of a pinpoint someday.

It is far too different or perhaps too the same.

***

There is a conspiracy in my mind.

The actual fair exists in a different place and time.

In its place a new kind of mental asylum exists.

Nobody sane would buy deep fried cookie dough to eat of course.

I obviously lost that sanity a long time ago.

Somewhere among clouds painted into creation by cotton candy.

***

The truth is I miss the real fair.

The excitement and adrenaline from seeing the new.

The good kind of unknown that might end up as an unexpected treat or vomit after a ride.

So until I find out the location of the real county fair, I will continue these visits as a ritual.

Looking for the new in smaller situations.

Finding it in the deep fried cookie dough.