Il Pagliaccio With his pink face, his tardy pants, his perennially smiling lips, the pagliaccio runs to the stage drawing an imaginary circle in front of kids who laugh especially when he pulls a kerchief out of his pocket, a green kerchief with no end and after he pulls three meters of endless fabric and focusing on the faces of the children the pagliaccio gets ready for his next act: he takes off his hat and turning it upside down he puts his hand in it and after three abracadabra he raises a snow-white rabbit in the air to the yelling and laughing kids as the pagliaccio, as happy as ever with his performance, disappears behind the big red curtain not forgetting his duty to the man, he once was, one who could reach the stars, who could transcend the flesh and touch the eternal, which, alas, he never did.
I was lucky in my life to meet many good and always correct people perhaps they were more austere than normal perhaps, how can I say it, even a little tough but isn’t this the right of those who know and know how to judge everything? The difficulty arises when no one of the just people accept the other just what am I saying they never appreciated each other
‘Yes, Nora. Yes, I honestly do.’ ‘I wish I could share your optimism.’ ‘You’re becoming cynical in your old age, Nora. You need cheering up.’ Nora looked behind her towards the door. ‘I don’t know what’s keeping Janet.’ ‘I wouldn’t even like to hazard a guess,’ Clifford said with a smile. ‘Would you like me to order drinks for you now? What were you and Janet … ? Ah, here she comes.’ He stood up as Janet rushed in. ‘Sorry I was so long, Nora,’ Janet said, ‘but I kept meeting people. Robert Purdy’s here with his fiancée. And the whole Morgan family from Clondarragh.’ ‘Janet, you know Dr Hamilton, don’t you?’ ‘But of course I do. How are you, Dr Hamilton? We haven’t seen you down in our part of the world for ages.’ ‘I’m fine, thank you, Janet. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I hope your mother and father are well.’ ‘Hale and hearty, Dr Hamilton. I’ll tell them you were asking after them.’ ‘Yes, please do,’ said Clifford. ‘I actually came to invite you and Nora to join us at our table. My wife, my son, his girlfriend, and some friends of ours are there.’ ‘That would be very nice,’ said Janet. ‘We usually have more company with us, but they all had other things to do this evening.’ Clifford led the way to his own table and made the necessary introductions. Nora and Janet sat down on two extra chairs that John had already added to the group. Nora sat between John and Ian, Janet between Ian and Clifford. ‘Now, what is everyone drinking?’ Clifford asked. Fiona and Susan had had enough, they said. Janet and Catriona asked for lemonade. Julian a Macallan single-malt Scotch—‘If they have any.’ Nora ordered gin and orange. ‘Mother’s ruin, Nora,’ said John. ‘Make mine a John Powers, Clifford.’ ‘Julian’s choice of Scotch for me too,’ said Ian. ‘Do you ever drink anything else, Ian?’ ‘Only Drambuie, but not now.’ Clifford smiled. ‘You’ll have Coca Cola in your whiskey, I suppose.’ ‘Get away with you, man,’ Ian scolded. ‘Even though I know you’re joking, you should still be horse-whipped for a crack like that. In Scotland we don’t joke about our Scotch.’
Manolis Aligizakis 