Michelle wandered into the fairway, her eyes huge as she tried to take in all the lights and sounds of the rowdy carnival. She'd only been to one of these a few times before in her life, and that was when she was a little kid. She couldn't keep the grin off her face as she made her way slowly down the huge lane between rows of brilliantly tacky stalls.<br/><br/>Her cheap rubber flip-flops kicked up puffs of sawdust as she walked. She liked the smell, reminding her so much of cut, neatly-stacked firewood. A comforting scent. The air was delicious on her skin, carressing her bare legs and arms. She felt like she'd dressed well for the night, in a pair of short cut-off jeans and an old, comfy tank top.<br/><br/>She paused at every attraction she passed, wondering as she considered the bright and almost garish signs outside, what lay inside each doorway. She lingered the longest outside one called "The Haunted Dungeon," feeling a bit guilty that she found something so morbid so incredibly curious and appealing. Maybe she'd check it out, if the price was right.