There stands a man dressed in a thrift store ensemble wearing rainbow hair, a little short, a little overweight, with a bulbous nose and greasepaint smile, who slips and falls and gets slapped around by people and life and we call it humour.

Complacent in our self-appointed definitions of the ‘normal’, we fools call him a clown!

No, it is not the clown that I fear; it is the ignorance that labels him, that I fear.


In response to Three Line Tales, week 71‘s photo prompt by Diana Feil.


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