I had learned a long time ago carnivals are lies.

     “What is it?” Steve said, shuffling his black stringy hair off his face.

     “Nothing,” I said, eyeing the plastic clown fastened to the tent.

     “What?”

     “Nothing man. I swear its nothing,” I said, and turned away from the stupid smiling clown. Carnivals, I thought, they make you think they stroll in your town to create fun, but the truth is there sly evil things, sucking away at your wallets. And the clowns. I hate them, always smiling, with there red noses and their stupid painted face.

     “You are thinking about the clown again, aren't you?” Steve said, his hands on his hips, head cocked, giving me his look.

     “I can't help it,” I said, remembering the scars on my fathers face. I had put them there. He had come home drunk one night, and mistook me as thief and attacked , and I was left with no choose but to defend myself, slicing up his face.

     “Dude, your fathers dead. He got what he deserved.”

     “I know,” I said, my palms slick with sweat, thinking about how my father disappeared after the attack, only to haunt me years later when the carnival came to town, dressed as a clown. I hadn't known who the clown was. For days it followed me and then one night, he attacked. I was forced again to defend myself with my pocket knife. And as the clown lay there dying I looked into those dark blue pearl like eyes, and I had gasped, realizing it was him. My father.

     “It OK man. Enjoy yourself”

     “Yea.” I said shaking my head, “maybe you are...” (Timer went off)

Note:

     This is my second attempt to take the Freewrite challenge. It was fun. It is amazing in such little time what the mind can conjure up. When I first read the prompt I was thinking poem, but after I wrote the first sentence this guy named Steve popped up in my head and said, “What is it?” and the poem evaporated like smoke from a match being blown away in the wind. I'm not much of poet. I maybe written ten or fifteen poems in my life, I always drift to story form. Perhaps next time I squeeze out a poem.

Prompt Used:
1. Carnival

     But what I like best about this challenge is taking advantage of the first things that pop into your head and go with, because you don't have time to stop and second guess yourself, and the mind can conjure up some wierd things.

     I made no changes to the story other than spellings errors, what you read is what comes straight from my mind, and so I am sorry if it is sloppy and incoherent. With that said, good day, good night, good morning, depending on where you are, and adios.

Thanks to @mariannewest for creating this challenge.

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@shanedustin

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