Bright Lights

Written in response to https://lindaghill.com/2023/11/17/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-18-2023/

Clown shoes, painted in a yellow hue, were in the shoe rack. It was always a conversation starter. Not that they realised their true meaning. Confetti, in a rainbow of colours, mixed in with the dry sawdust, and he could still hear the cheering crowd. Trapeze artists, high above them, in a shimmering show of entertainment. The safety net straps lowered for a night of fun.

Now, his job was a healthy shade of grey.

Nobody noticed who he was, and he could just blend in with his surroundings. It was how he preferred living his life. Going to work, earning money for his family, and sleeping well at night.

It wasn’t all grease paint and painted on smiles – moving from town to town, not calling anywhere home. It was only when his wife had their first child; he wanted better for his little girl.

She was in university, and could choose anything she wanted to do. His clown shoes were his past and her future was away from the bright lights.