Comics - Dreamtales

“Your story is weak,” the Ringmaster hissed, gesturing to a blank storyboard that towered into the grey sky. “A boy in a shop. A grandmother. Safe. Boring. We will replace it. We will give you substance . You will be ‘The Boy Who Fed the Carnival.’ A tragedy in three acts. The critics will adore it.”

“The DreamTales,” she said, her voice a dry rustle like turning pages, “are not stories you read. They are stories you wear .” dreamtales comics

Outside, the afternoon sun vanished behind a single, grey cloud. And far away, like the echo of a broken calliope, Leo heard the faintest sound of applause. “Your story is weak,” the Ringmaster hissed, gesturing

A figure emerged from the booth. It wore a ringmaster’s coat of patchwork shadows. It had no face, just a smooth, porcelain mask with two words painted where the mouth should be: THE END. We will give you substance