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I lay in bed trying to focus on the words on the page. My eyes are heavy and the paragraphs start to blur together. It is time to take on the tiger. My chair and whip in the form of a white and pink pill. I dance delicately across the thin wire. It is all there is between me and the fall I am desperately avoiding. I balance the best I can. My arms spread wide, ready to counter any unanticipated movement. The smell of cranberry and mandarin mixes with the fresh air seeping in my open window, a far cry from the smell of elephant dung and burnt popcorn. It makes me miss him and remember. The happy thoughts tell me there is goodness and hope at the end of the show.

The rain starts, ending the circus and lulling me into a place where everything is possible. My subconscious is in control now. When the morning light comes, I am once again nothing but a ringleader, entertaining the masses, trying to maintain control.