Clowns

Lying on my bed and see my room full of clowns. Happy clowns, sad clowns, laughing clowns, even a tall gaunt clown with spindly legs. My mummy thinks I like them and keeps buying me more. I wish I could tell her how much they frighten me. Everywhere I look, I see another clown's face.

One hundred different clowns, none of them the same. I say my prayers with mummy then count them before I sleep. Snuggled in my duvet I count them once again. This time the number comes up one short and there's a rustle under the bed.