Clowns/Clown by Mati Colarossi

Life is a circus 🙂

parallel texts: words reflected

Clowns

The clown twirled. The cyst-like tip of his long shoe dug into the gold star on the circus floor, his red and white costume ballooned. Like a top, it spun.

“Boys and girls, the one, the only, Dozo the clown….”

His knobby chalk-white index cut the light. The sound, accompanied by a drum-roll, shook the air.

The spot light followed his finger as it stopped at a place in the bleachers.

“…and he wants you!”

I shuddered, yelled.

“No!”

A hand shook my shoulder.

“Pete?”

I squinted in the light that filled the room overlooking the sea.

“Bad dream again? The studio called. You have to shoot the clown scene again.”

My eyes found my wife. She smelled of fresh coffee.

“What time is it?”

“Nine. Breakfast’s ready.”

I rolled my eyes under closed lids, playing with the sperm-like particles that swam in the pink light.

“Don’t go. Stay…

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