Pink gets a job in a circus and immediately finds something is off. As he learns more about the people he learns that a lot of people miss judge them, but not in a bad way. He then tries to expose some while still keeping his job.
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As the wind blew and the rain was smashing itself onto the muddy ground I looked at the soggy paper in my hands, a job wanting poster. Something I've been looking for a couple of years and this one seems like one of lowest of them all, a circus, a place where if you're a customer you get to spend money, to watch and laugh at the ridiculous things people do on stage. If you were a worker you get to gain only a little bit of the money that the customer paid and you'll be a laughing stock, a freak, because in this Circus no one was a regular.
That was the point of a circus, for people to stare at things they never saw and people who don't match to red, blue, purple, green or yellow colour like the rest of the people in this world. The perfect people for the job were people who were multiple colors, had strange personality that didn't match the personality and so on.
I stared at the paper as rain droplets were landing on the paper, making it wet and drippy in my hands. I looked up to the red tent that the paper mentioned. I was to go in and have an interview.
I took a deep, annoyed breath as I always do when having to talk to people about what I achieved in life, which is nothing and all I get to see is their heads shake no with a disappointed look. Why am I even trying at this point? Maybe because I'm still hoping that this time I will get the job.
I walked into the tent and the first things I noticed was that it was a lot warmer for some reason, the tent wasn't thick, it couldn't possibly keep a warm temperature for it to not get cold by the outside. The second thing I noticed was the smell of cigarettes, witch didn't bother me a lot since I my self smoke.
The tent wasn't big, all it had was a wooden table with burnt marks with some papers, a couch that looked ripped as if two cats fought on it and two other people other then me.
The person on the couch had baggy clothes, everything was dark grey, his pants were ripped and you could see his scratched knee and he wore a pair of gloves. His hair surprisingly looked clean, usually homeless people have hair that looks like someone put oil over it to keep it from running away from their heads. His look was completed with a cigarette in his mouth.
The other man had a top hat with a red ribbon, he wore a nice suite that was black with the red buttons. There was a small red jacket (or maybe a scarf) on the chair he was sitting on. The things he wore made him look like a professional, but I learnt over the years that clothes isn't everything.
Clothes can be just that, clothes to cover your body from the cold, some do wear it because it look nice, because they like the style. But clothes can also be the part of someone's act, someone who dresses perfectly with the way they want the world to see them as. All it matters is how the person acts and their clothes will do half of the talking.
I would know that because I'm one of those people when I get the chance to dress up.
"Ah! You must be pink" said the guy with the top hat as the man on the couch glanced at me before looking away and ignoring me. "Take a seat!" He said as I sat down.
