Fair

The cold bites my face, needling my nose and my fingertips as October brings in the frigid air of Autumn, its ice touch welcome as it heralds sparks of excitement, and breath that can be seen;

The sweetness of warm onions and spun sugar permeates the air, a strange, teasing, caramelised combination, its dense temptations beguiling and coaxing lick-lipping smacks.

But first, to fun: it is Fair Night and darkness revels in the sharp screams that overlay the buzz of generators and hawkers' cries; bass attacks and retreats, shaking ear-drums while sirens whoop.

Ducks, dartboards, giant pandas, hooks, and little fishies in bags, the street path leads through their lurid colour leaking, the strobing probing strobe of heady speed and thrills poking at eyes, and the towering stripes of the sedate sentinel Helter Skelter, reaching up as ladybirds crawl.

I hold my money tightly, a thrillseeker in the night, keen to grip the railings of the gravity-defying, the cheek-tightening, the giggle-inducing: the fair's gaudy magic reaches for my young self and rattles me senseless with its fast moves.