You wander down the swirling white path, meandering through the circus. The black and white striped tents on either side of you ripple gently as the people inside stir the air. It is, of course, nighttime, but it is also early morning; most of the patrons of the circus with small children have left. The Wunschtraum clock has chimed two o'clock already, and you feel a bit drowsy, yet unwilling to leave; perhaps you will return home after visiting one more tent.
After several minutes of walking, you realize that you are in a section of the circus you have not visited previously. The signs around you promise fascinating spectacles - "Wildflowers of All Varieties", "Papercraft Creatures", "Paint Wonders"; there is even one sign that simply states "The Fog". However, one sign in particular draws you in; "Picture Windows – bask in the various sceneries of these picturesque windows". You decide to enter the tent.
The first thing you see in the tent is a large, square window directly in front of you. Through it you see a beautiful, moonlit lake. Willow trees sway in a gentle fashion on the lakeside, and the stars dance on the lake's surface. Your breath is taken away in wonder—the sign didn't lie, it is truly picturesque. From outside the tent, you hadn't noticed a lake, but you are quickly distracted from that thought by a window on your left; medium-sized and circular, there are waves lapping against it. You can see the night sky above the waves, and below, deep ocean.
All around the tent are windows of different sizes. Some are large, taking up much of the space on a wall; others are no larger than peep-holes on a front door. They are all at different heights, packed together on the tent walls. There are a few people in the tent, all engrossed in their window; one man even lies on the ground on his stomach, gazing through a low window at a field of black and white wildflowers. Some of these windows, you realize, show other parts of the circus; through one rectangular window with an ornate white frame, you see the bonfire at the center of the circus. There are still a few people milling about, chatting or simply watching the flames with cooling cups of cocoa. Oddly enough, none of them seem to notice the window.
You look through each of the windows, pausing to admire the scenery. You see lots of different views; a hill, basking in a gentle afternoon glow; the front porch of a house, with a fat grey cat sitting on the banister; a misty, elegant street in what appears to be London—yes, it is London, because in the background you see Westminster Abbey.
You get quite a shock when you peer directly into the face of a young woman who appears to be equally as surprised; with a laugh, you realize that she is a few feet away from you in the tent, looking into a different window. You wave at each other through the windows.
After examining all the windows, you finally leave with a feeling of calm, quiet happiness bubbling in your chest. Maybe you'll visit the circus again tomorrow.