Saturday, May 29, 2010

Clowns II: Four Lines of Prose

He sat at his desk, arm covering half his paper as his hand raced furiously across it, with a smile that made his face look bigger than life. I couldn't help but watch him, wondering what mischievous twitch triggered the joke this time. With Sam, there was always a joke. I smiled at the memories as Sam, the class clown and ruler of late night television, delivered his opening monologue for the last time.

*** Daily Writing Practice ***