|Working on this new one-shot manga, 2 pages once a week.|
An empty road glistens in the hot sun, it’s cracked, and the yellow paint faded. An abandoned town, destroyed and graffitied, a quiet honking noise can be heard. The wind blowing against a cowbell, it hangs above the town’s population sign. The sign reads, “Welcome to- Population-” but the sign is incomplete. The honking becomes louder, a slight echo follows.
The year is 1978, the town is young and dark. Families all around visit the carnival, the main attraction of this little town. Screaming and laughing and choking and music- fill the night air. Bright lights of the carousel sparkle into the young boys’ and girls’ eyes. The hormone-fueled teenagers urge to enter the tunnel of love, while the adults drink their cheap alcohol from their flasks. The old folks just sit there on the benches, their breaths heavy, bones weak. Dogs howl and growl and whimper, the carnies aren’t nice to them. They’ll kick them, throw empty bottles at them, pop balloons at them to scare ‘em off. Sometimes they just kill them behind the curtains, it doesn’t matter anyways. Vessels without a soul don’t matter, right?
The year is 1979, a little boy cries as a single strand of hay, sharp as a needle, pierces into his little, exposed toe from his little, broken flip-flops. He tries to find his mother, a single parent, but she is too busy riding the roller coaster, for the first time in her thirty years. The little boy wipes his tears, feeling nauseous as he looks up at the roller coaster whirling, twirling. A string attached to a balloon is tied around his wrist, it becomes sweaty and uncomfortable. He unties it; of course, it slips past his skin and floats into the air. He looks up in fright and sadness. The fear of heights and the equivalent feeling of losing a pet or friend, truly this child is a coward.