The Clown: The Clown

I've always been cautious about making my stories "too disturbing". Believe me, I'm a human being. I love cats, Walt Disney, and Taylor Swift. I enjoy listening to Tchaikovsky and Mozart. Right now I'm listening to "Fun, fun, fun" by The Beach Boys (no word of a lie). But, obviously, I threw all that caution to the wind when making this latest collection of stories.

My first story "The Clown" in this collection is about, you guessed it, a steam-train. No, it's about a clown. No, it's about a clown. This story, really, is all about addiction. Being addicted to picking up that phone, even though it means something really dark and disturbing, and eventually, it leads to something horrible. I've never really been addicted to anything except rage. But that was a serious problem. I mean it.

My experiences just being so angry, and feeling so much injustice, that it led to truly horrible explosions of verbal abuse on my end, it just had me feeling so rotten and dishevelled afterwards, it was like I had excreted something vile or split some garbage over my chest. Addicts will identify will the loss of control and the true, down-in-the-dumps shame that follows.