A Circus in Every Pot

"When you joined the circus, I didn't think you'd bring the circus home with you!" He looked frantically around the living room, festooned with tentpoles and colorful banners. "Well, honey," she said, "I didn't expect it either. But the circus lost its lease all of a sudden, and it needs someplace to stay. I was serious about the commitment I made to the circus, so I'm not about to turn it away."

"Is... is it going to be for long?" He stared into the kitchen where a monkey was frying some bananas.

"Just until the circus can get back on its feet. I wish I had a better idea than that, but, you know—"

"Yeah, you're not about to turn it away," he said. "I'm going to bed. I think I could use a good night's sleep."

"Oh, um," she said, "wait. I think Jerome's still in there."

"Who's Jerome?"

"Lead elephant."

He stared at him blankly. "How did an elephant fit into my room?"

She shrugged. "No one's sure. But don't worry, the clowns are working on getting him out. They're pretty sure that if they can get their car in there, they can squeeze Jerome in and drive him out."

"Great," he said, sounding hollow. "Honey! Where am I going to sleep?"

"I'm sure there's a spare hammock around here. Or you could join the sleep pile on the safety net. We're going to string it across the living room once we finish watching Crocodile Dundee. The trained crocodiles think it's hilarious."

He stared at her. "I'm getting a hotel room. You tell me when this is over, and then you can have your husband back."

Her cries followed him out among the wagons and half-built tents, and all the way to his car, where he drove away.

Office Dread

He was scared and he didn't know why. Something was waiting for him at the office, lurking invisibly until he made himself vulnerable. It hadn't always been there. He had noticed a sense of foreboding, a growing sense of dread, but this past Friday it had changed. The feeling had mounted all week, until as he packed to go at the end of the week, he sensed a promise: When he returned, it would happen.

He had no idea what it was. Would he lose his job? Was there a humiliation waiting for him Or, as he felt deep in his gut, was something waiting there to kill him?

His sick days had only lasted so long, and he couldn't get away with any further excuses. He had to return to face this mystery or face a doom of his own making and lose his job.

That made him think. Lose his job at a place where he felt this phantom dread, or return and surely experience whatever fate awaited him at the office?

When they received his resignation, they didn't ask any questions. But he sensed they were just as relieved, and he wondered if they'd felt it too.

All the Dirty Work

"Why do I always have to do all the dirty work?" asked the boy as he picked up his dropped toy. It caught the attention of a passer-by, who laughed. "That sounded like something he learned from a show," she said to the boy's father. She leaned down to the boy. "I'm sure it might seem like you do all the dirty work, but there's a lot that adults do that you don't even think about." She straightened and stretched her back. "Isn't that right?"

"No," said the father. "He does all the dirty work. See," he said to the surprised woman, "I'm something of a complete and utter germaphobe, and he does all the work that brings one remotely close to dirt, filth, or soilment of any kind."

After an effort to shut her mouth, she said, "What about his mother? What about your mother?"

"Also a germaphobe," said the man. The boy nodded.

"So you..." she started.

"Sweep, mop, vacuum, scrub the toilets, do the dishes, clean the fridge, and wipe my parents after they use the toilet."

"But... what do you do while he's at school?"

"Oh," the man smiled, "don't worry about us. We home school."

The Doctor is Free

"I've been waiting here twenty minutes," she said. "Do you have any idea when my doctor will be ready?" "I'm afraid she's running behind schedule today," said the receptionist. "We'll call you when she's free."

So she waited.

"Hey, it's been over an hour. Any chance of a time estimate?"

"We're very busy today, and some of us are covering for sick staff. All I can tell you is that we'll call for you as soon as the doctor is free."

"Great," she said. "Thanks."

And she waited.

"So, I've been here since ten and now I've missed my entire work day."

"I'm very sorry, but we'll call you..."

"...as soon as the doctor is free," she said with the receptionist. "Right. Thanks." She sat down.

"Kim?" A nurse asked the full waiting room for her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm afraid I'm behind schedule. I'll come in as soon as I have a free moment." She went back to her book.

"Okay," said the nurse. "Deshawn?" A guy got up and followed the nurse in.

"Wait," said Kim, "I'm ready. I'm ready now."

"I'm sorry," said the receptionist. "We'll call for you as soon as the doctor is free."

Muse

He sat there while she looked over his office. She put her arms around him and held him warmly. "What a cozy little place," she said, kissing him on the neck. "That's not what I said," she said, looking over his shoulder. "And since when do I hold you warmly and kiss you on the neck? What kind of story is this?"

"Stop arguing with me," he said, and she smiled, and put her hand on his shoulder possessively while his creative muse flowered.

"For God's sake, no," she cried. "I'm leaving."

But she stayed, because she couldn't leave him. Not like that. Not with so many words unsaid between them.

"Ew," she said. "Or howabout, 'Goodbye?' Is that a word between us enough for you? Because it's enough for me." And she stormed out.

But she secretly yearned for him.

"I do not!" she yelled from down the hall.

On Whom to Marry

"I will not marry him," she declared, having just burst into the tent where her parents were meeting with his parents. That's when she got a look at the him in question, kneeling politely behind his parents. Karak, the younger brother. Not the older Errak. "Leave, daughter," said Father. "This is not your concern."

"It's my future!"

"This is outrageous," said Karak's father.

"Why shouldn't I have some say?" she said.

"when I was your age," said Mother, "I would never have chosen your father." Father raised an eyebrow. "But my parents made the wise decision."

"The sapling does not choose where it grows," said Father. "It falls where the great oak wills."

"I want to marry someone who will make me happy, someone I can make happy, not this, uh...." She had rehearsed a speech for someone far older than Karak. "...this guy.

Father stood. "We are your parents. If you do not think we can choose what is best for you, you disrespect our wisdom."

"I don't, I think you're very wise, Father," she said. "But what I want should matter. Does the wise man, um, does not the wise man look which way the river flows before he sets his nets?"

Karak's father looked like he might catch on fire, but he did not break Father's silence. The tent was quiet.

"The wise man does," said Father.

Like Old Times 3

"You didn't have to shoot him," I said. The pistol disappeared back into her handbag. "Don't be such a baby," she said. Her tone got dangerous: "Why are you taking out your phone?"

"I have to report this to the police," I said. "Ah, wait, put that gun back in your purse."

"I'm not gonna let you rat me out to the fuzz," she said, distinctly not putting the gun back in her purse.

"And I refuse to be an accessory to murder."

"You think you're not already?" she said.

"Obviously I am, but I'd like to lay a trail of plausible deniability," I said. "Also, who says, 'rat me out to--' Hello, I'd like to report some gunshots." Once I'd finished telling them something technically true, I hung up.

"They're gonna question you. They'll trip you up on some detail and you'll give me up."

"Darling, don't you remember how good I am at stories that hang together?"

"Damn straight I do, cheating bastard."

"Then don't sweat it."

"Do that again," she said, "and you'll be hunting the idol from my trunk."

"I'm going to have to pretend you kidnapped me when this is all over, aren't I?"

"Pretend?"