Circus Dressing Room

Deep within the labyrinth of the Big Top’s underbelly, the Dressing Room is a cramped, low-ceilinged chamber lined with peeling mirrors and flickering bulbs. The air smells of old greasepaint and stale sawdust, the walls barely muffling the distant hum of mechanical performers gearing up for the show. A single rickety table holds a scattering of costume accessories—tattered gloves, half-melted ice cream cones, and a half-empty bottle of something sharp-smelling left behind by a previous performer. The room’s only door locks from the outside, its brass handle cold to the touch.