He climbed the taut rope ladder with routine. High, very high up into the dome of the circus tent he rose, while down below the clowns made a few last tired jokes, packten their horns away and, under the slowly ebbing laughter of the audience, stumbled hastily outside. It got qiet in the arena. Three more rungs, two - then he stood upon the tiny platform and opposite to him was Nina, the pretty, petite little Nina in her tight white costume decorated with sparkling silver stars, her long blonde hair tied into a perky ponytail. It was her first appearance before an audience, and he admired her courage, so high up, leaving herself completely in his power, relying only on him and his strength and his precision, trusting in his abilities, she put her life literally in his hands. She was only 14 years old, his so beloved, adorable Nina, but she had been training since childhood. In another life, she could have become a prima ballerina or Olympic champion, but she was here, she was his trapeze princess, the shining star on his circus sky. The band played a fanfare and then it became quiet, very quiet, the people in the stands holding their breath, just as he did when Nina pushed away; she floated as lightly as a feather; one might have heard a pin fall as she danced on the trapeze, rocking, gaining momentum; he loved that moment of silence, this was his world, this was the moment he lived for. He caught Nina's gaze as he pushed away, wrapping his legs around the trapeze in fluid motion, his arms dangling overhead. Then he opened his hands; he knew that Nina would release herself from her trapeze the same split second, dropping in the confidence that he would catch her and he sensed the right moment, he felt her fingers in his and he grabbed her. She held herself securely in his grasp, then pulled up smoothly, waiting for him to do the same, until they both stood on the trapeze, and together they swung back onto the platform; high up in the dome of the circus tent they stood and his gaze lost itself in Ninas soul.