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.
