The circus arrives without warning.
No announcements precede it, no paper notices on downtown posts and billboards, no mentions or advertisements in local newspapers. It is simply there when yesterday it was not.
The towering tents are striped in gold and silver. Countless tents of varying shapes and sizes, with an elaborate wrought iron fence encasing them in the gold and silver world. Even what little ground is visible from outside is gold or silver, painted or powdered, or treated with some other circus trick.
But it is now open for business. Not just yet
Within hours everyone in town has heard about it. By afternoon the news has spread several towns over. Word of mouth is a more effective method of advertisement than typeset words and exclamation points on paper pamphlets or posters. It is impressive and unusual news, the sudden appearance of a mysterious circus. People marvel at the staggering height of the tallest tents. They stare at the clock that sits just inside the gates that no one can properly describe.
And the gold sign painted in silver letters that hangs upon the gates, the one that reads:
Opens at Dusk
Closes at Dawn
"what kind of circus is only open at night?" people wonder. No one has a proper answer, yet as dusk approaches there is a substantial crowd of spectors gathering outside the gates.
The ticket booth clearly visible behind the gates is closed and barred. The tents are still, save for when they ripple ever so slightly in the wind. The only movement within the circus is the clock that ticks by the passing minutes, if such a wonder of sculpture can even be called a clock.
Lights start popping at the top of the gates, each light popping and staying on, revealing letters until the popping stops and the words are revealed.
Le Cirque des Re'ves
"what does it mean?" comes the whispering through the crowd.
"The Circus of Dreams" comes the reply.
Then the golden gates shudder and unlock, seemingly by their own violation. They swing outward, inviting the crowd inside.
Now the circus is open.