WORTH 50,000: DAY THIRTEEN - Whirling.

[momebie]

[Source.]

At first it's a rictus that comes over them. They're frightened, because of his height and his mask and his dress, and their lips twitch upward even as they try desperately to keep them down. He's a warning. He must be. The unknown stumbles before them, and then he begins to whir. And it's familiar, the spinning, arms out, legs kicking. It's spinning they did as children. It's spinning they watch others do. Spinning is not dangerous. So they laugh and clap and forget. They're smiling for real when they put him on the cross. His cloak catches their laughter. Their rictus does not know enough to fear.