Beware of people the night!

Do you know who are the people of the night? The night people are coming after nightfall. They arrive on the sly, as quiet as crawling reptiles and settled on the fringes of our cities to draw up the stakes of their tents. In the morning, when parents and children emerge from their homes, they are there: their Ferris wheel stands in the dazzling morning light, turn their rides, their drums thundered. Fronts of their shops escape smells good beard candy, chips and sausages. But this is only appearance, deceptive illusion! Because the paintings of their capitals are made of storm clouds, their rides are playing funeral march tunes and maze of mirrors will steal your soul. Beware of people the night! They promise a lot and cheaply, but woe to that taken in by their rhetoric, because it will soon join the parade. And never, never, never leave it

Today is about two little boys that Wicked has set his sights: two little boys united as the fingers of the hand, but as dissimilar as possible - one blonde, the other brown; one talkative as a magpie, the other taciturn; one carefree like a leaf in the wind, the other already burning longings of the adult world. Two prey of choice for avid creatures that inhabit the fair, but not without two prey resources But these resources be enough to protect them? Will they resist the evil spells of Dust Witch? Escape the monstrous wax museum? And above resist twisting shenanigans of Mr. Dark, the terrible director of the fair?

That was about ten years since I read anything by Ray Bradbury, to the point of forgetting how his style was admirable - without literary flourishes, but poetry and sensitivity - and also troubling stories captivating. We must recognize that the author has no equal in creating an atmosphere in a few lines and submerge her as deeply drive a fish in water. Immersion much easier than the world's traveling circus is an infinitely seductive universe: a universe of miles quirks, still somewhat outside of our reality where all things, even the strangest and most frightening, seem to happen.

Readers who expect to find in "Wicked" the clichés of an old horror novel will be disappointed although no hemoglobin spurts or beheaded here, but of magic, dreams, the spooky A beautiful journey to the frontier between the world of fairground and one child (two worlds that are very similar in many ways) that will appeal to both fans of general literature than fantastic. Bradbury sir, I take my hat!