Frozen Midway- Snow-filled wind whispers the approach of evening. Tiny, white lights above vacant food carts flicker on and off. The haunting melody of laughter and carnival rides echo in the chilly breeze.Frozen blackberries, raspberries, and black winter cherries mingle with the faint scent of elephant ears, cotton candy, caramel apples, and sugared funnel cakes.
Crystallized Candy Cart- At the end of a colored cobblestone path covered in sheets of clear ice you come upon a light pink candy cart, stuck in a snow drift. Under a glass of ice, hundreds of candies twinkle and shine in the white cast of the moon's light.
Pink licorice, lime green wedges, sweet orange bursts, red fruit bites, vanilla straws, hard caramels, cotton candy frozen into pink wisps, crystal musk, and frozen white birch branches.
Frigid Funhouse- Beyond the knee-deep snow, the eerie drown of a melody cuts through the wind. Red, orange, and pink lights highlighting a deserted funhouse illuminate the dark night sky. Snow has gathered upon the moving staircase, now still, silent. Thick icicles hang from caged windows, the memory of August evenings now only a faded vapor curling through the cold bars. Plastic mirrors covered in thick frost distort the image of a clown face, hiding in the shadows.
Frozen wisps of dark caramel, spiced red cherry, cystallized spun sugar, and dark, smokey vanilla curls.
Haunted Castle- You see the exit far in the distance, a trace of dawn cutting through the black pitch of night sky, but one attraction calls to you through a veil of newly fallen snow. Piercing blue lights, the sound of grinding metal cutting through the winter air, and a loud buzzer force you to hault at the entrance. A slow, steady siren starts from the back and soon an empty seat emerges. You climb into the seat and disappear behind the flapping black door.
The faint metallic smell of cold metal and gears, warm spices, curls of black cherry smoke, and a tinge of snow melting into puddles.
Phantom Carousel- The approach of dawn was only a mirage and you hear loud chimes announcing the midnight hour. You glance down at your watch, convinced that midnight had already come and gone, but your watch appears to have stopped, both hands trapped at midnight. A cold, vaporous fog has moved in and you can bearly make out the shimmering pink lights ahead. You stumble in the direction that can only be straight and find yourself at a vintage carousel. You run your fingers on the intricate detail of a white stallion, his gold bridle inlaid with pink roses. You touch the horse's cold saddle and feel a slight shudder as if you felt movement. An odd out-of-tune melody begins and you have no choice but to climb onto the white stallion's back, completely unaware of his nostels breath mixing with the white fog.
A snow-filled evening, dense sugary fog, red lavender, pink carnation, white rose, and a touch of parma violet.
