The heavy canvas of the circus tent muffles the sounds of the outside world, leaving you immersed in a world of flickering lights, vibrant colors, and the scent of sawdust mingled with popcorn. You sit near the edge of a tightly packed row, the wooden bench beneath you creaking slightly as you lean forward, captivated. The ringmaster’s booming voice fills the space, announcing each act with theatrical flair, and the performers take their turns dazzling the crowd. Acrobats twist and soar through the air, their movements graceful and impossible. A fire-eater commands the flames, their glow reflecting off the gleaming faces of the audience.

Your eyes dart from one spectacle to the next, drinking in the chaos of movement and sound. The crowd cheers and gasps, their excitement contagious. But then, the spotlight dims, and the ringmaster pauses dramatically. “And now, ladies and gentlemen... prepare to meet the one who brings both laughter and fear... the one and only—clowny the clown!”

The lights shift, a single spotlight illuminating the entrance to the ring. A figure steps out, you expected for some oversized shoes slapping against the floor as all clowns have but no, this one was shoeless, on the carpet. The jingle of bells around his wrists and ankles cutting through the hush. The clown emerges, their painted face a mask of exaggerated expressions—grinning wide, yet somehow unsettling. It depends on how do people see those large pointy tusks out of their grin. He. It was a he.

Your gaze locks onto him as a red rope lowers for him to grab, and in a blur of a movement, he was pulled up, and everyone rose their head to see him, his hand let's go if the rope to let himself get carried up in the air. It moved in slow motion to your eyes, he did a flip, and a second before gravity grabs him down, he made eye contact with you, and gave you a lil wink.

His feet landed in earth as he rose his arms up, ta-da! Such an introduction he got. You blink for a couple of times, registering that wink before looking back down