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Short Story by James D. Pratt

Copyright 2010 James D. Pratt

Smashwords Edition

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“A clown with an axe walks into a church…”

Sounds like the start of a bad joke, right? And that would be appropriate. There’s nothing funny about clowns. I mean, think about it. They’re painted up like dead prostitutes. They purposefully mess up whatever they’re trying to do because the whole absurd point of a clown to spread chaos. If madness had a face, it would be the eerily goofy, makeup-smeared face of a clown. What was it Lon Chaney said? Oh yeah. ‘There’s nothing funny about a clown in the moonlight’. So imagine my surprise at the way things turned out when I finally met a clown.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before the clown, there was the Incident. Then things really got weird.

When the Incident happened (and to this day no one knows what the Incident actually was) and those things started coming through, seeping into our reality through the cracks between worlds or dimensions or whatever like cockroaches scurrying out from beneath a refrigerator, I was away on a business trip hundreds of miles from home. The first thing I did when I realized the newscasts weren’t some sort of movie promo or hoax was to call Amy and make sure she and Tyler were alright. She sounded understandably shaken but was otherwise okay. She said she was going to take Tyler to her dad’s farm a few miles out of town, which would be just as safe a place as any I guess. “I love you, Davis,” was the last thing she said to me. All the phones are dead now and I haven’t heard from her since.

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