The October wind chilled them to the bone as they walked hand in hand along the deserted pier, nobody else seemed to be around but in the presence of true love other people do not exist for the two people who are experiencing it; so as they made their way down to the far end of the jetty the fact that the sky was not full óf the harsh shrieks of seagulls didn't enter their minds.
The old neon sign read Carnaval de Almas (although the neon hadn't been lit by the looks of the sign itself for an age.)
"What does that mean?" He thought aloud. She merely shrugged and laid her blonde head against his chest
"Come! Let's go look inside?!" His words were more a plea, then command.
She nodded, smiling before pausing a moment to give him a sweet, innocent kiss.
The rags which was the flimsy entrance of the exhibit were grimy and rotting away from mildew; she grimaced as she ducked her head and stepped in as he held the moulded fabric up for his lady love and stepped in after her.
Twilight made it difficult for them to see the interior of the archaic pavilion, but soon the milky shine of the moon helped their eyes see the treasures inside.
"There is nothing here my love?!" He spoke with the voice of a disappointed child.
"Except toys! Look so many toys!" She said clapping her hands equally childlike
They both looked around the huge gazebo at the very intricate, detailed ancient-looking toys. They was a moth-eaten stuffed toy rabbit with one long ear sticking straight up, while the other was bent over and crooked, a Pierrot clown with bright, beautifully precise but chipped paintwork and an exquisitely handcrafted marionette puppet in the form of a sailor boy complete with a blue and white sailors suit and a white sailors cap.
"They are beautiful!" He gasped, leaning over to touch the puppet's face.
"They look so sad; so lost! She said shivering, suddenly noticing the icy, grave cold air around them.
Outside the pavilion, a tall, thin figure ín a purple suit and a black velvet trimmed top hat strolled casually to the entrance of his very unique exhibition; he laughed, the laugh wasn't a pleasant, joyful one, it was long raspy mirthless, empty, cruel with as much malice as a rattlesnake bite.
The Soul Collector was pleased with himself, his harvest was plentiful in this place.
In the pavilion, there were two new additions to the beautiful, unique and strangely sad exhibits; amongst the moth-eaten, worn rabbít, the forlorn clown, and the wonderfully crafted sailor puppet were two perfect sweet dolls, a boy and a girl hand in hand.
