Black and green hair framed around a face decorated in red painted cheeks and a bright red buttony nose, short and, dare I say, stacked frame pieced together with overalls and a button-up with green paint splattered against each piece of fabric, and the entrance being done in that classic clown unicycle rocking in like sharks swim to their prey. Instantly, my heart felt like it was lit aflame. The same feeling I got looking at the keeper, and yet, for someone I'd never see again, just by how cute she looked in that dressery and bright face! I was already absorbed in her act. Could the lady next to me see my face go a deeper blue of blush? Hoping not.
Every movement tracked with my eyes, and then, as soon as she ran in, her act was about to end, but not without her grand finale, a trapzee, situated just a few feet above the rest of the tallest of those situated among the walls as I was. Delicate legs, an act so delicate, everything about her, delicate, beautiful, overwhelmed heart, overwhelmed mind. The line she balanced upon as if graceful and upon the ice, and it pointed straight at me. And her hands reached out at the end of that catwalk, and right before she jumped back into a leap and hopefully into the net set below, her eyes looked back at me. Beautiful, bright green, but not a green you would see anywhere in Sugarteara. Everything about her was that same shade of beautiful green that had pierced the hearts and made me want to fly up and perhaps abandon everything and start anew with someone so fucking cute. The eyes locked, and then fled to the net, and the rest of the show went on. And even with every performer, no matter how graceful, or who it was, they could never match the sheer talent of the first, the beauty, and what I had felt.
And after the show, a call to go out depending on seat placement, and I was one of the first. And as I made my way out and perhaps to scream hastily-planned could-be-wedding-vows into a pillow to get the feelings out, a shoulder meets my arm, and to turn and see it, the same shade of green that felt like it was being painted onto my very being. I called out to them, and they looked back, noticed the lack of a crowd, and took a few steps back, asking if I had enjoyed the show. Oh, her voice! Bubbly, untainted by war and fear as I was far by now. My voice stayed quiet for a few seconds, before opening again.
"Oh, I loved it. And no wonder you're the mascot, your act was so grand...!"
She took that compliment with grace, and then hurried away, sideways steps, going through two men, and one being someone faintly regonized from a class taken when I was in my teens, and to be forgotten again, seeing as I was such an embarassment back then. Perhaps, I had already acknowledged that I would never see her beauty again, as the train to go back home would be tommorrow, but within just the few minutes met with her, I had been pierced in the heart once again with the beauty of the city. We called for talent, and talent is what Sugarteara had. No matter what sort of talent, no matter solider or actor, everyone had a purpose here. This was my home, my beautiful home.