Cutting Costs


The carnival’s manager watched the teenager with interest. She was at there alone, spoke to no one… she was perfect. “Want to play? We keep the good games in the back,” he said.

The teenager shrugged and followed him into a small tent. She was slow, but moved steadily. The tent was empty, except for a large grandfather clock. It ticked, the sound getting louder with each swing. The pendulum was a clear mirror.

“Isn’t that something? Over a hundred years old,” the manager said.

“You said there’d be games.” She seemed to be looking at the clock, although her eyes were hidden by sunglasses.

“I did, didn’t I?”

“…Do you know about the three teens who went missing from town?”

The manager felt a chill run down his spine. “No.”

“I bet you brought them back here. They probably expected gambling, not hypnosis. Are they still in the carnival? Free labour?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked back and forth between the teenager and the clock. Why wasn’t it working? Just seeing it should stop her from thinking clearly.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she removed her sunglasses, revealing blind eyes. “Want to play?”


One thought on “Cutting Costs

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s