Circus -- Fiction; Clowns -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
Kevin walked with the crowd along the spotless corridor and stepped
aboard the automatic lift, getting out at the floor above. He seated
himself in one of the comfortable lounging chairs and shuddered
slightly as it fitted itself to the contours of his body. His fingers
clutched tightly the undistinguished box he carried and something
within him resisted the comfort offered by the large chair in which he
sat.
People continued to file in and take places and the amphitheater was
quickly filled. Soundlessly. The walls absorbed the sound and invisible
filters removed the dust from the air. Occasionally people took
small pills from the containers built into the sides of their chairs
and popped them into their mouths. Kevin knew the pills tasted like
popcorn, candy floss, and some even like hot dogs. But they were, of
course, not the same as the real thing. Neither was the amphitheater.
Once there had been great canvas tents put up in the open air, and wood
shavings covering the ground within, and hard benches for seats. The
area around the tents had been sprinkled with small stands that sold
soda in bottles and candy floss colored pink that melted into sweet
nothingness in one's mouth. And everywhere there was an exciting smell
made up of many separate things. Animals, the food-stuffs on sale,
sawdust, and the sweat of many human beings pressed tightly together on
the bleachers. There were the shouts of barkers, colored lights, and
men who sold little lizards that changed color as you watched them.
Kevin knew all this for he had read it in the book which he had bought
from the ancient shopkeeper in the run-down section of New New York,
how many years ago? Kevin smiled slightly to himself as he recalled
the puzzled expression on the shop-keeper's face when he purchased the
book.
The circus was beginning and Kevin interrupted his reverie to watch.
On small elevated squares in the center of the great arena stood
figures almost too horrible to look at. Some flailed many arms about
aimlessly; some simply stood--vacantly--and their undersize extra
limbs which should have been wings fluttered sadly. One or two figures
crawled about on their small squares scratching their scaly skins and
making whimpering noises. One seemed to be making efforts to rise from
where it lay in an amorphous heap, but was prevented from doing so by
a grotesque over-sized head which the creature seemed incapable of
raising from the slab on which it sprawled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account