His eyes shone like blue diamonds.

His smile curved like a waning cresent moon.

His hands were worked by the labor of ten something years.

The carniaval man, charming as he was, his long days went unnoticed by carnival goers who ignored his call.

I had passed several times until I felt compelled to wander to his booth.

It was, however, not the games that had caught my interest nor the laughs he’d evoked from children who passed.

It was him. The carnival man was intriguing.

I wanted to know more.

He and I, though, our paths were not meant to cross.

Next year Carnival Man.