After months of being chained like an animal and cleaning up after them. They finally decided to see if I had what it took to be a clown. The older clowns setting out face paint, cloth, dye, wigs, and contacts.
There was one that caught my attention in all the fuzz. A cute clown girl that looked about my age. I could tell she wanted nothing better to do than get out of here. Her dark curly hair up in a hair tie. Her whole aesthetic being monochrome almost like a mime. Considering all the other clowns were dressed in bright colors practically melding together, she either wanted to stand out or be invisible.
Random clown: -snap snap- you there?
My attention was hyper focused on her, I forgot I had decisions I had to make. I went with my favorite colors, red, black, and white. The older clowns quickly walked away with the scraps of cloth I had picked out. I saw no interest in wearing a wig so I picked red and black dye. As for contacts a black base with a red rim for my left and a red and white spiral for my right. I didn't want to stand out too much with face paint but I wanted to break the rounded edges mold. I made triangles with dots on the end, exaggerated my smile with the harsh lines.
A few weeks lasted before the ring leader walked in and gave me a costume and a name "Lovely Licorice". I hated it. I hated all of it. The costume was big and baggy, showed no definition and I looked like the geezer clowns.
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Toxic Licorice
General FictionToxic Licorice is a clown at a traveling circus. This is the story of her demise and uprising. The story of her life as a lesbian in a time where she would be killed for being out.
