Traveler

“Are you on your way to the fair,” rolls out like two neighbors chatting over the fence that has him skipping ahead to what used to be cotton candy and long lines after roasted dogs smothered in mustard. Food aside, a gazillion arcade games brought to life from carneys barking out the opportunity to impress that girl on his elbow has him taking a minute longer in looking over the mule’s coat and stance before his response of, “might be,” leaves him to looking into steely eyes.