For a few hours, ordinary faces belonged somewhere else.

Paint ran beneath the eyes. Stripes replaced uniforms. Someone became a mime, someone else a wandering juggler, and neither had to explain why.

The camera moved through them without asking anyone to remain a character for very long. A glance, a gesture, sometimes just the light catching a face before the person underneath returned.

By the end of the evening, the costumes were still there.

The illusion had simply become harder to separate from the people wearing them.