A TEXT POST

Small hands

The circus was coming to town. I, for one, was not excited. 

“Circus” means peanuts, clowns. It means carneys, small hands, and frowns.

It means my co-workers won’t shut up. I thought I hated talking about the circus more than the circus itself.

How completely wrong I was.

My boss volunteered me, so I walked into the ring, visibly reluctant. The crowd got a kick out of that.

As expected, the carneys were aliens. They beamed me to their spaceship. Now I’m 42-billion light-years from earth, a distance I’ve been told by “scientists” was impossible to cover in forty-five minutes.