I had on a flowered dress and a denim jacket, and a bracelet that chimed with my every movement and it was too good an outfit to waste sitting at home all evening studying. So I smiled and smiled at MDH until he shut his textbook and then we were off, outside, with black boots on.
The nearest park is the Common. The common has tall trees for children to climb and grass for dogs to prance on and a lake for ducks and moorhens. In the evening, the common is filled birds and bats that flitter and titter, and swoop from drooping branches.
Loud music and flickering lights were across the water and we knew from painted signs that the fair had come to town for the easter weekend.
Drawn to the smell of buttered popcorn and sugary candy floss, we wandered across the mossy ground, and watched the children jumping in the inflatable castle and lining up for rides.
Grandparents strolled along, holding the hands of their chattering descendants, sticky with the remains of melted icecream, sticky with the residue of caramelised almonds, with the remains of candied apples.
The freckled young lads were throwing beanbags at cans, in exchange for cross-eyed stuffed animals, in exchange for the attention of young ladies who giggled and tossed their braids and rolled their eyes.
A young mother cursed loudly at a small child who had stumbled over into a pool, splattering mud.
A group of children walked by me, laughing and throwing grapes at each other, one of them drinking from a half empty bottle of bourbon.
A man shouted at his wife for dropping the paper tokens on the ground.
We looked at each other and shivered. It was time to go home.