After watching Stephen King’s It as a child, I had always been deathly afraid of clowns. But my son was turning six, and he begged for a clown until I finally caved in.
That Saturday, I watched the party from the kitchen window while my husband supervised. What did a mother know about giving a growing boy a party anyway? If I had my way, he’d still be wearing my underwear on his head and trying to walk in my heels.
It arrived an hour late. I could see through his face paint, and when he stumbled out of the minivan, a small Jack Daniel’s bottle fell from his oversized pocket. He scooped my son in his arms and tossed him up and down in the air as if he were juggling.
I burst through the back door, screaming, “You demon! How dare you throw my child!”
The children stopped and stared. It said nothing, only swayed while holding my son.
My husband escorted me back to the house. “You forgot to take your pills again, sweetie.”
word count: ~175
This is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: write a story in 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) using the provided photo prompt as inspiration.
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