stolen from gness
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE
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It always amazed me how calm and placid you were. I was always trying to stay composed, nervous that I was being regarded by so many people at once. You, you never cared. You just kept going almost oblivious to it all. I was so jealous of that. Years of work leading up to this and you were so natural.
Do you remember the end of the parade leading into the fairground? You finally had a look of curiousity when the procession wound its way through the gates. I remember being assailed with the smell of BBQ'd meat, the blue smoke hanging like a haze. I remember the smell of Corn Dogs and cotton candy. The sickening scent of diesel from the generators powering the rides.
You calmly regarded the whirling twirling machinery carrying its screaming giddy cargo. Canned music thumped away with hits from another time like Duran Duran. Carnies screeched at the people to wager a dollar for a chance. Megaphones boomed with the promise of cars and houses to be won for charity. Shriners with Fez's collected the money, their faces sunburnt to match their hats.
On we plodded towards the back of the fair where we were milling about aimlessly as the parade dispersed. I confess I felt a stab of fear. All the noise, all the movement and here we were in the middle of it not knowing where to go. But you? You were as calm as ever. After all the preparation you were the calm one.
I turned to see where you were looking and saw the familiar smiling faces of our friends waving us towards the large show buildings. Gratefully I ambled over and you followed with your measured pace. We went in and found a spot to rest. My stomach was in knots but you calmly started to eat your lunch. Do you remember me telling you I was going to explore for awhile and I'd be back?
I made my way through the displays regarding them but not seeing them drawn towards the darkened ring on the other side. I walked through the curtained doorway and found a seat and watched and listened. The auctioneer talked so fast and the men in the seats were so intent you could hear the serious bellow of money in the tension. Just to sit there and listen was something I still can't describe.
I looked over to see you come in. I laughed realizing time had passed very quickly. You searched the faces until you saw me. Nonplussed at the noise and furious action you made your way around to where I sat. Then, one of the workers took off your halter and handed it to me. You had sold to a butcher for a fair sum. My 4 H project was over, my Moo Cow had been sold. I watched you amble away chewing for the last time.
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