The Joke Man lay in the humming
hospital room, dying and alone.
“Alone and misunderstood,” he
cursed to himself. “how quaint.”
Joke man had spent his entire life
cursing and debasing the mundane, safe, unoriginal. He had created
(sort of) a career for himself doing the completely original and
unexpected.
Many (most) didn't appreciate what he
did. But those that did, thought he was a genius. (especially
himself)
He tried to think of something
completely new to say about the hum of the respiratory machine, the
beep of the monitors, the body of his nurse, the quality of the
food.
Nothing came to mind.
Soon the cliched cold crept through
his typical ravaged body and the mundane dark came over his eyes.
In front of himself he saw a smiling
clown. A typical, easy scare, teenager jump scene clown.
Deep down he knew he had to laugh.
