Thursday, September 6, 2012

112/365 the circus

I was little.  It would be raining for a couple of days.  "The circus is coming to town,' my mother would say, 'it always rains when the circus is coming to town."  I was in awe of my mother knowing this, and I'm sure it had something to do with my lifelong love of rain.
I especially liked the clowns, and the people on the flying trapeze.
In the attractions around the circus, there were bearded ladies, and hugely fat people, exposing themselves in such a way.
My father and I found our way into a tent where there was a two faced man.  My father hid my eyes when he came out, but I took his hands away and looked, glad to be standing so close to my dad.  The man had a hole in his head, which was a third eye, and too nostrils next the the regular ones.  His mouth was a terrible mess, and he had trouble with his speech.  He told the story of his face, and his life, and came through the crowd, collecting coins.  I saw that my father added cash.  I felt sorry for the man, as did my dad.


  1. Hello, Barbara/myth maker.

     Your heartwarming works fascinates my heart.

     Thank you for your kindness and support.
     And i pray for you and yours peace.

    Have a good week-end. From Japan, ruma❃

  2. thanks for sharing.


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