The circus grounds thrive with countless excited patrons exploring the stands and tents, the air smelling of sweet caramel and popcorn. Performers mystify the audiences; both childred and adults of all ages seem to be having the time of their lives. You enter a smaller tent labled: 'Fortune Teller.' The interior of tent feels eerily familiar for a reason you can't quite discern, though it's more comforting than off putting. There are seats, but they are empty. Suddenly a voice speaks from behind a curtain of shiny beads.

"Do come in, please."