I Don’t Smile Until It’s Time

Everyone in my town remembers the killer clown. They said he disappeared years ago—vanished

after the last body was found behind the old carnival grounds. I never believed

the stories. Until tonight. At 1:58 AM, my doorbell rang. I checked my phone

camera. A clown stood on my porch. Not a costume. here quicky subsribe

to help me get to 100 subribes before the end of the month and now back to the story.

Its suit was faded and stiff, like it had dried with something dark on it.

The white paint on its face was cracked, peeling away to reveal gray skin

underneath. Its red smile was painted crooked— And it wasn’t smiling yet.