The clown lost his nose and he felt as nude.
He was there, alone in the center of the stage, lights on him, when he was like that: nude, with no nose.
Never the audience was so big; never so many eyes are directed to him. And he was there, nude, and the audience and the lights and the big stage around him. He, the center of shame.
Everyone laughed and laughed and laughed a lot. He thought not funny at all, just shame and embarrassment, and they laughed of him.
So big was his embarrassment, so big his shame, more and more they laughed.
He was just hiding his nose with his hands, as Adam. He felt so nude, there in the center, hands crossed over the nose, and he felt like he was crossed the legs too, shrunk: something more than sex was exposed.
He was there, totally nude, and in exchange, he received laugh, the laugh which he never wanted.
Without knowing how to get out of that situation, he saw a child out of the audience, running to him, and she jumped in his arms. He was forced to take the hands off the face for that girl didn’t fall and so got her in his arms.
She looked well in his eyes and smiled:
- Mr. Clown, you don’t need to be ashamed. We love you besides the nose. Not is it that makes you clown.
He smiled, half disappointed, embarrassed, he smiled.
She puts her little hands over his nose to cover it. Her hands formed a small shell over it, like a little ball.
Then she looked to him again and smiled.
Her hands were red, shiny, as her eyes.
- Clown, go, smile, and make them laugh with your art, never more of you, of your shame.
And while she spoke, she was disappearing. Left her red little hands, left her little eyes, always ahead. If he hesitated, the little eyes of the angel girl were there, smiling, encouraging, pointing out he should move forward.
The clown laughed and laughed and laughed. And it was so much joy he felt, that everyone in audience cried.
