Circus clowns visit sick boy. CC public photo Boston Public Library (via Flash! Friday)
Exercise of the Heart
He is there in the morning, when passing. Heather shudders at the painted grin-stroke-grimace, frozen in place. She can take living statues. Clowns, she dislikes. His hand stretches towards her. She quickens her pace, leaving him standing.
Random route or no, he is there – muted - the next day; silver replacing carnival colouring, save a specific cluster of pink. Looking more closely, lingering, she spots it clutched between metallic fingertips – the crimson paper fluttering with the wind. His arm reaches, mutely. Brown eyes look into hers. A single black tear drop hangs mid cheek. Then there is a quirk of the mouth; an eyebrow raised; suggestive.
Despite herself, Heather is smiling slightly. She knows what will be on the cut out he holds. It mirrors the make -up marks drawn onto his chest. An excised heart; painstakingly precise in the drawing. Digits marked across its length. Silently proffered. Despite questionable taste in dress, perhaps she’ll give this joker a chance.
My second effort for Flash! Friday this last week. I deliberately took this one in a completely different direction, given I'd gone "dark" for the original entry. Funnily enough, the dark one got more comments!