Fungal Halo

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One cannot be made a clown by another. No, a clown makes themselves.

It starts with a gag here, a jape there. A clown-to-be, one not yet Filled with Joking, may not even understand the strange impulses that come over them.

Fingertips brush the skin of bright citrus in a grocery store, and for an instant, instincts overwhelm the poor person.

One, two, three, four… bright oranges dance from hand to hand in graceful arcs. Excited, they add more and more, relishing the way they draw attention.

An Audience! That’s what clowns crave. The attention and admiration of store patrons feeds something within the burgeoning clown, but it’s a little off, isn’t it?

Fortunately, grease paint is on sale. Aisle nine.

Oh yes, that feels much better. There’s no going back now.