by Caoimhin Kennedy

The urge to piss led him behind the tent. He unzipped and released.

Footsteps forced a halt to his relief.

He turned and there the Juggler stood. Three balls tossed through the air. The roar of the crowd beyond the tent walls exploded.

The juggler stepped from the shadows, his face appearing in the moonlight. Pale, bloodied, savage, evil.

It was then he realised the Juggler’s tools were not balls, but skulls.

One swipe of the Juggler’s claws separated the head from the body.

His bladder let the remaining liquid free as the Juggler feasted to collect his fourth ball.

Caoimhin Kennedy

Originally from Ireland, Caoimhin Kennedy has always had a passion for telling stories. He currently lives in Ottawa, Canada, working in the engineering sector. His works can be found in a publication of Every Day Fiction and in three upcoming Black Hare Press anthologies titled: West, Cyborg, and Eerie Christmas Vol. 2.