Nothing like a clown drive! Once the smaller herds have been collected, the great mass is routed through town to the railhead. Children watch from second-floor windows, parents fearing children might be lost or abducted in the crush. There is an air of danger in unbroken clowns, especially in aggregate. Still, there are street vendors, food stands, and commemorative clown prods. But it can be a burden on the citizenry. After years of randomness, the drive is restricted to simply the thirty-first of September. Streets will be blocked, contracts committed. We prepare for the first coming of that day.
Ken Poyner
Ken Poyner’s four collections of brief fictions, four collections of speculative poetry, and one mixed media collection, can be found at most online booksellers. He spent 33 years in information systems management, is married to a world record holding female power lifter, and has a family of several cats and betta fish. Individual works have appeared in “Café Irreal”, “Analog”, “Danse Macabre”, “The Cincinnati Review”, and several hundred other places.