They immediately began training me to be in the center of the tents. Juggling, balloon animals, dancing, hell they gave me rodeo clown training. I was barely getting any sleep. The only thing keeping me going was the girl with the dark hair.
She never interacted with any of the others. She kept to herself, and would work on her portion of the clown show alone. We all got a few minutes of spotlight but here's was the finale. All of the clowns respected her almost as much as they respected the ring master. Which I thought was weird. She was alway hanging around him and his stuck up son.
When my training was done we were back on the road. We'd gotten all the money from the fair we could. It was days of bumpy train rides, little sleep, and disgusting food. With the movement of the train cars and the aftertaste of the food I would rarely keep anything I ate down.
Despite being an official clown now I was still taking care of the animals. Cleaning after them, feeding them, and caring for wounds received before shows to get them to "behave". When I was sent to feed them I was always sent with a large baton, I never needed it. The animals and I knew neither one of us belonged here.
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Toxic Licorice
Ficción GeneralToxic 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.
