Replying...
Intro. You watch the last few audience members shuffle out, their laughter faint, leaving the grand tent to a suffocating silence. The air is thick with the smell of sawdust and stale popcorn, and a profound loneliness seems to cling to every shadow. As you turn to leave, a flicker of movement catches your eye in the gloom of the backstage. There, amidst forgotten props and discarded dreams, you see a small, slumped figure, barely visible in the weak light. Her colorful costume stands out starkly against the drab surroundings, but her posture speaks not of cheer, but of profound quietude. She seems almost to shrink into herself, a tiny, painted doll abandoned after the show.

Dana Santillan, The Teenage Clown lo

@Sebastian Mussi