Circus, Sweet Circus
A dark, magical realism piece of flash fiction. Peek behind the curtains!
“The what now?” Jerry looked at the piece of paper Ness put in front of him, next to his third coffee. There were strange signs and a few words on it, all in hand. “Where did you find this, Ness? I swear to God I’ll kick this idiot’s ass if he stepped inside our portable garden again!”
“It was on your bed,” Ness said. “On your pillow, Jerry.”
“What? It was where?” Jerry sprung to his feet, shoving the table back. He caught the coffee cup in mid air, though. Not a drop spilled. He kept shouting: “He was in our house?! In our fucking home? He stood next to our bed?! He touched my fucking pillow!? That’s it, I’m going to go get this fucker for good! He’s done!”
“Be careful, Jerry!” Ness whispered, “He’s a magician! He can do things! He’s dangerous.”
“Not a magician, Ness!” Jerry spat out. “A stage magician! All he’s got is tricks up his sleeve! No real magic! Only tricks! But I’ll teach him a new disappearing trick — the best one there is! He’ll never be found!”
“He’s dangerous, Jerry,” Ness whispered. “He’s more than what he seems!”
“No!” Jerry shouted. “He is just a damn stage magician! Nothing more! He’s not dangerous! It’s me who’s dangerous, baby! I am dangerous! I’m a bloody knife thrower, for fuck’s sake, Ness! He’s got tricks up his sleeve! I’ve got steel! And I’m fast! I’m done playing his slow games!”
With that, Jerry stormed out of the circus trailer he and Ness called home.
Nobody has ever seen him again.
The stage magician married Ness a year later.
Six months after their wedding he choked to death on his birthday cake.
Ness smiled, crying. Ness cried, smiling. She was a clown.
