Sunday, April 10, 2016

Sad Day for a Clown


(I wrote this piece to vent some frustration. Knowing that I had to create a character that people wouldn't feel bad for. Hence the Clown.)
It's dreary day on the freeway, daily traffic buzzes by a beat up green 1960's toyota that's parked on the side of the road. An already wounded clown with smeared make up steps out to examine his flat tire. Having received a text from his girlfriend Bubbles stating that shes leaving him for a mime his mind is any where but on the freeway. Going to his trunk to retrieve his spare tire. The dented trunk refuses to open. Reaching for the rusted latch he manages to force it open which caused him to splice his hand wide open. Bleeding out onto the pavement he clutches his large rainbow neck tie and rips it off. Wrapping it around his hand like gauze the bleeding manages to stop. Finally managing to replace the tire he returns to his seat. Before a sigh of relief a truck smashes into the side of his car. Not only indenting the entire side, but taking the driver side door with it and continuing on down the free way. Releasing a sadden sigh this poor clown seeks musical serenity reaching for the button he's shocked by his radio. About ten miles out his car starts to steam from the hood only to result in complete engine failure. Putting his big floppy red shoe out of the hole where the now absent door would have been it begins to downpour. Officially giving up on the car he removes a rubber chicken from his pocket and sulks on the hood. Heavy are the rain drops that wash away the whites and reds of what was left of his professional persona. Now a depressed clean shaved face takes three drenched steps away from his car. His hand dripping on the pavement, pieces of his life slowly being emptied out onto the road:a large flower, his red nose, a rubber chicken and bag of balloons. Then it happens, a single bolt of lightening strikes and within a blink his car explodes. Flying towards him a projectile spark plug torpedoes itself right into his groin. Falling to his knees with his hands cupping, gasping for air as he lays fetal on the ground. Letting out a series of deep breaths he manages to get himself up and much to his surprise the rain stops. Had this bad day finally ended?

With a flash of light he's hit by a bus, caught on the under carriage by his smiley face suspenders before his demise he utters one word.
Figures.”



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