The laughter was all I needed from the crowd. The sweet scent of butter roaming in the air, the tackiness of the corn in the children’s fingers. Looking up my eyes are locked into the multi-color drape covering the place was my favorite place. I take out a moist wipe to vanish the paint off my face. Then all of a sudden my face gets in contact with the cool touch of it. As I wipe ,streaks of paint start to appear. The colors mixing into a blob, a beautiful one. My pores covered in the paint start to breath.