The Circus

There is a Circus in this world that knows no end; where everyday the same old acts play their same routines. The audience stare, dead eyed and slack jawed at the performers in the middle as the artists blindly go about their routine like ants. It is the same performance, the same conversations, the same grandstanding every single day.

Occasionally one of the performers collapses and dies from the complete depletion of their mental capacity. The complete depletion of their mental capacity? Surely there is a better way to word that. Sigh. Anyway, the now dead performer is ignored, simply a raised part of the floor for the surviving performers to stand on or kick when annoyed. As the time passes, the mound of flesh slowly gives way as the bones get broken and decay sets in. The dancing elephants saw to the hard stuff – so fat and stupid they simply trudge around following their orders despite the inhumanity that surrounds them.

The colours and the sounds repeat their mesmerising curses. A monkey sits in the corner turning the handle of a music box over and over. An old man bounces a child up and down on his lap while applause rings out from the mind wiped fools that dance and sway. Clowns throw human excrement at the audience and the laughter reaches a deafening cacophony.


For a brief moment, one the crowd realises the predicament they are in and starts to scream for help. Naturally no one arrives. Nobody will break the circus, nobody will break the routine. More bodies will pile up and more brain cells will die. The audience member remembers their place, opens their mouth, and continues to drool in a state of perfect apathy.

The finale begins as it always does, the performers gather round in a circle and wait for the clock to descend from the rooftop. The crowd stares as the giant pendulum underneath the clock sways from left to right. Tick-tock, Tick-Tock.

The performance is over for today but will begin again tomorrow. Just as it has done for eternity.


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