A Lyric, A Story, No.1

“I am a ticket taker, many tickets have I torn” – The Low Anthem

In a small wooden booth at the edge of the fairgrounds, I take the coins and dispense the tickets, regaling those shuffling hoards lined up before me with stories about the attractions they yearn to see, snippets of weather prediction, and praise for the little town and its beautiful women. I am their ticket taker.

Come one come all, into the fairgrounds of spectacle, the tents of portent, the cages of animals and men no longer suited for the jungles. Stride across the flat grass to the big top, where you have more chance of meeting God than in the red brick church near the center of the village. God will wear a red vest and a blue coat with huge buttons and proclaim through a white megaphone the joys of His illusion He has created especially for you.

And like all Gods, He is only passing through.