Jeremy W. Kerr
Copyright © 2008 Jeremy W. Kerr
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It was three hours until dawn and as one moon sat below the horizon, the second, larger moon climbed into the sky. Anyone who was up would have seen the carnival hover-trucks make their quiet way down Main Street, take a left at the last intersection in town, and head down the dirt road to what used to be the Shomette’s farm. However, no one in town was awake at that hour save for Alethia Tims, and she was in no condition to be up and about, looking out the window. Instead, Alethia was lying on her cot in the small living room, staring at the ceiling. She clutched an old, yellowed handkerchief to her mouth to stifle the sound of her coughing. She didn’t want to wake her son or her husband, knowing they had a long day of work ahead of them. Had Alethia been in better health, she may have been standing at the window to watch the carnival slowly slide by, the rides broken down and unrecognizable, the animals sleeping in their cages, the freaks sleeping in theirs. Though if Alethia had been in better health, she would probably be asleep in her own bed beside her husband, not lying on a cot praying to a god whose only begotten son had been sent to another planet in another planetary system.