He would always wait for someone to sit down on the bench, observe them for some time, sit next to them, look intensely to their eyes and try to make them laugh. His laughter was gentle, penetrating your eyes like a gentle melody, destroying the entire sadness and misery. He became a hero of our town. Rumours about him making people happy were heard in faraway places. The clown didn’t seem to notice the hustle and bustle he caused and continued to pay visits to our park every day.
With the knowledge of having someone who could always make you laugh, life seemed to be so much nicer. Once when I was really sad, his eyes made me see rainbows and I felt like I was swimming in the warm, sweet honey. And then I flew. It was like a dream and when he woke me up from the misery and sadness I swear I remembered how to fly. If not because of the absurdity of believing it, I’m almost absolutely sure that if I did try it I would fly.
The saying, that things always get worse, became true once again. One raw, cold night the clown didn’t make someone laugh....her! She came like a winter into the summer, destroying all the warmth around, ignoring autumn and spring. She was the most beautiful lady I’ve seen and will probably ever see. And this wasn’t just me saying, everyone agreed. Her beauty was undeniable, striking, piercing your eyes so you could not see anything else but her. She was so pleasurable to look at, yet you always felt like you shouldn’t, like it was a certain crime to do. Her beauty was cold; one that made you strive for the warmth but at the same time it froze you so you couldn’t move and was unable to look for it.
She was in the park, sitting on the bench with her big, sad eyes looking at something in front of her. The clown came, sat down and looked at her ready to perform miracles. There was a slight strike of recognition in his eyes and he forgot what to do. After a while of staring, her beautiful pale face was filling up with tears and the wind started to whine and the leaves on the trees started to freeze. The clown was crying too, his painted face looked like it’s going to vanish. For two solid hours, they sat there crying. Their cry was a quiet one, without sobbing, penetrating the silence without a noise.
Everything started during the summer. In the beginning they were in love, enjoyed every single pleasure of it, like there was nothing else more important than being together. He asked her to marry him and she would always refuse with a little smile as if she wanted him to ask her all over again, just for the sake of asking, to try him and herself how many times he could ask and she could refuse him. He always made her laugh, no matter what. When he had to leave somewhere for a week, she got so sad she couldn’t get up from bed. He would take away all the happiness every time he left and the idea of not being able to be alone again was unbearable for her. During the times he was gone, she knew there was something broken inside her and she hated herself for wanting him to fix it. When he came back, it was warm again. But for how long? She wondered. One night, while he was asleep, she made the hardest decision ever. She accepted and faced the fact that she wasn’t in love with him as much as he was. And it was only because she loved her sad and lost herself more. It was too unfair to be with him and offer him so little. Love should never be inadequate and one-sided. There are always two sides of each coin.
After she left he blamed himself so much. He thought it was only his fault that he hadn’t tried hard enough to make her content. He quit his job and promised himself that he would find a way how to make her so happy that she would stay with him forever. And that is how he became a clown. He found a great joy and pleasure in it. For a first time there was something else than her to make sense in his life. He would sit on the bench every day, hoping and praying, it was her sitting next to him. He always imagined her beautiful face, trying his best to make her laugh.
When she finally came and he recognized her, so pale and cold, he knew it would take him very long to get her back and to give her what she always wanted. She had managed to change although she knew it would take her years to be able to show it to him and make him understand why she left and that he must stop trying so hard and let her try too. So he just stared at her and she stared back. The staring continued for months, then years until the clown’s face broke into little pieces and he looked like human again. Her paleness seemed more colourful too. In the end they smiled and left the park together, like any other couple having a walk.