In 1985, he was alive.

I sit in the circus, I don’t touch anyone. Who to touch at 6 years old?

Suddenly a clown climbed up the stairs. Such, real, in an orange suit, a red pearl. He got up, took my hand and silently tried to pull me into the arena, and I was sitting, I must say, on the top.

With all my strength, I cling to my chair, the hall rushes, I shout, the clown silently pulls me into the arena.

No one will ever prove to me that clowns are good.