It's more than a shape, getting closer you can see a break in the fence and rising above it a metal frame holding up the rusting letters announcing UNLAND, there's no sign of the missing F. And beneath that a giant looming clown head emerges from the gloom. It looks like it probably sat on top of the sign, overlooking the entrance. Now it's lying on the pavement outside the entrance to the park. A giant fibreglass head grinning in the mist. Cracked open, the inside strangely dark. And behind that the entrance, frozen in time. Old posters peeling off the ticket booth, with its smashed windows. Rusted turnstiles, arms long gone, gateway to forgotten dreams and...what?
The air is chilly, with only the slightest stirring of breeze. And it's silent, silent except the occasional creaking from deep in the mist, some invisible ride inside the park shifting, swinging. Memories of fun and excitement long gone. The magic of Funland long since faded away. Looking through the turnstiles into the thickening mist it is impossible to make anything out through the fog and the glare of the dying sun.
