The Sad, Depressing Clown

The Sad, Depressing Clown
The young boy skipped down the sidewalk, as many do, thinking about the day he would grow up and be an airplane pilot. Flying high in the sky like a bird on a nice spring day. The boy couldn’t help but laugh at himself as he stuck his arms out and ran, pretending to be an airplane. The boy stopped abruptly when he saw the clown standing on the other side of the road. It wasn’t a creepy clown, just a sad, depressing clown. The boy walked up to the clown and asked “what’s wrong?”, just like his daddy had taught to do when someone was sad. The clown just stared at the boy with a sad, gloomy face and stuck out his hand. Within his hand was a red balloon, the boy graciously accepted, thanked the clown and went on his way. The boy continued to skip and decided that today was a pretty good day. But the clown, he knew better. He knew that this day would not be a pretty good day for the boy. The clown shook his head sadly as he heard a loud crash which came from down the road where the boy had been, Then the clown disappeared as the boy’s balloon slowly rose higher and higher into the air. With no one left to grasp it.

Jack had been working at Tiny Co. for 30 years, that job should’ve been his not Jerry’s. Jack belonged with the big dogs, up on the 50th floor, smoking their huge cigars and sitting on their asses doing nothing all day. Jack deserved that, after 30 years of constant bullshit from customers about how this was wrong and how he should go fix this and that. This was Jack’s time to finally be free, But jerry ruined it, that lying bastard. Jerry stole his spot with the big dogs and now jack is stuck down here with all the other idiots who seem to think their actually going to make it. But see jack was going to make it, one way or another. As jack got in the elevator and pressed the button, a voice came on saying “you are now headed to the 50th floor”. Then the elevator music started to play. Jack hated that music, it made him feel sickening, the music acted as if everything was going to be fine. But it wasn’t, not for him and definitely not for jerry. When Jack reached the 50th floor he could see the back of Jerry’s huge sweaty body as he stood in front of the window trying to get a breath of fresh air as he smoked his cigar. That was Jack’s cigar, he deserved it. Jack lost it and ran at Jerry, shoving him out the window. Jack watched with glee as Jerry fell, farther and farther he fell until he finally hit the bottom with a “thud”. That’s when jack noticed the clown sitting on the bench opposite of where Jerry’s body lay. The clown looked up at Jack with a sad, depressing face and shook his head slowly as if in shame. As the clown let go of a red balloon. Jack just watched the balloon in fascination as it went higher and higher into the gloomy night sky. Police dragged Jack out of the front entrance of the building minutes later, Jack looked at the empty bench knowing that it held some importance but couldn’t remember what. The clown was gone and so were all the memories of him.


Trish woke up to the sound of her baby crying, so she got up and went to the room and turned on the light, only to find an empty broken down crib. Trish started to cry, only just then did she remember that her baby had died in its sleep exactly 1 year before. Trish dropped to her knees and screamed, wondering how life could ever be good again. Only when she got a hold of herself and got back on her feet did Trish notice the note with a little red balloon attached in the crib. She walked over to the crib slowly and picked it up. On the note it had said I’m sorry for your loss. Trish flipped the note over to find a picture. On the picture was her baby being held by a clown. A sad clown with a depressing look upon his face and yet the baby was as happy as can be. Trish smiled and walked out of the room never to step foot in it again.


The clown has seen all.
Life, death,
Sadness and despair.
He watches us all,
Waiting for the time to be right.
Some see the clown as a monster
Others a saviour
But, here he remains
Forever the spectator of our depression.