The day fades, the moon rises, and the glamour of the night begins. A disc of earth separates from the ground and begins to spin. The lovely pale children, luminous sprites, grab hold of the flowery uprights and their laughter is a whisper of chimes. Fallen petals tickle their dancing, translucent feet.

Beware, mortal! A moonlit vision of the rosy maypole carousel can make a lunatic of the strongest mind.

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