First published at http://flash-frontier.com The Greatest Show on Earth
I feel like the spindly drawings in the corners of pages of books, flicked through to animate this two dimensional space I inhabit. Here I am mid-stride. Poised…
My wife! She left me for another! What a Bozo he turned out to be. She feared no one took her seriously. I cannot change the past. The future’s a different story, which starts somewhere.
“You’re a clown,” she once whispered, affectionately.
At college, I learned that in summary, the visual joke brings on a quicker reaction, but the verbal joke is more widely quoted and remembered longer. I add audio for effect. The punch line is always a fart. An arse-blossom. An amusing answer blowing in the wind.
“You’re a CLOWN!” She once accused, peeved.
People who suffer from coulrophobia bother me. I’m a sad cliché. Like a dyslexic man who walks into a bra, my life is laughable. A real hoot. Aoooggahh! Klaxon horns give me tinnitus.
“YOU ARE A CLOWN!” She once screamed, then slapped my creamy white face red.
Behind this scumbled visage of makeup, which radiates a cartoon sun, are tears. Mirth is infectious, like Ebola. On my deathbed, I think I’ll find that, actually, morphine is the best medicine.
…my oversized plastic clodhopper casts a shadow. Children perch on bleachers, peer under flapping fabric into the murk. They’re desperate for lightness. Ruthless absurdity enriches their lives.
A banana skin. I slip, flip, fall, land, fart. Hilarious.
Later, my fans depart: art distorts life; life funfair-mirrors art.