I Don't Like Clowns

Harrison Winter watched the child’s face like a man following a tense football match. Go on kid, he willed at the five year-old, ignoring the minor glimmer of guilt hovering at the edge of his consciousness as he framed the thought. Scream. Run away.In the garden, separated from Harrison by the kitchen window, the little boy’s confused and apprehensive expression began to give way to a tentative smile. Harrison sighed, switching his gaze to look over at Tommy, his own four year old, also sitt...