you stare at rows and rows of identical looking corn. only one has a blue ribbon taped to it

there are pigs. so many pigs. too many pigs. where the fuck did all these pigs come from?

a child with large eyes stares at you while eating a corn dog. there’s ketchup dripping on their vote for trump shirt.

a man holding a pot and pan shouts at you from a booth as you walk by. two old ladies sitting in chairs in front turn and stare.

you see a poster for fried cotton candy and contemplate how that’s physically possible.

someone has submitted a printed out bathroom selfie to the photography section. it has a red ribbon.

you stare at a tomato about the size of a baseball and wonder why it has a blue ribbon. then you realize it’s a cherry tomato.

weeks after the fair you find hay in the most bizarre places. in your hair, in your shoes, in your car, on your dog.

you walk along the midway as teenagers run by with stuffed minions. in the distance you hear a cow moo.