Lilia found the local circus easily on the perimeter of town, the muck of the Hudson alongside. She stepped beneath its welcoming arch—a concoction of scrounged wire and light bulbs that looked tawdry in the daylight, but would be magical at night—and took a deep breath.
Lilia always preferred the circus before it opened to the public. The performers were awakening from their night revels and there was a sense of being privy to something that shouldn’t be seen.
She liked being in on the secrets, big or small. In daylight, the circus didn’t look the same—the lights were off, the faces were devoid of make-up, the sparkling costumes were folded away. What lurked behind the illusion was surprisingly mundane.
This circus was a bit smaller than Joachim’s and Lilia thought of his characteristi
