I was little. It would be raining for a couple of days. "The circus is coming to town,' my mother would say, 'it always rains when the circus is coming to town." I was in awe of my mother knowing this, and I'm sure it had something to do with my lifelong love of rain.
I especially liked the clowns, and the people on the flying trapeze.
In the attractions around the circus, there were bearded ladies, and hugely fat people, exposing themselves in such a way.
My father and I found our way into a tent where there was a two faced man. My father hid my eyes when he came out, but I took his hands away and looked, glad to be standing so close to my dad. The man had a hole in his head, which was a third eye, and too nostrils next the the regular ones. His mouth was a terrible mess, and he had trouble with his speech. He told the story of his face, and his life, and came through the crowd, collecting coins. I saw that my father added cash. I felt sorry for the man, as did my dad.