As the little clown baby played in the courtyard, the sun had just begun to set, turning the sky a brilliant orange-pink hue. Her bright clown lapel pins caught the setting sun’s rays and sparkled like tiny stars as she wore them. As she sang a happy tune, her tiny hands were busy tinkering with the pins.
The clown baby started to tremble as a sudden gust of wind passed through. She looked around, cradling her knees, to see if anyone was present.
The little clown baby reflected on the day she received the pins. She recalled that because it was her first birthday, it had been a special day. When she had seen the box of bright pins that morning, she had been overjoyed. There were a plethora of shapes and hues. She had put them on with great care and wore them with pride ever since.
As she pictured the happy moment and thought back to the things her parents had said, the clown baby smiled. They had told her that the pins were an image of their adoration for her, and that she ought to continuously keep them close. She pictured the pins shining in the evening sun with her eyes closed.
The clown baby suddenly heard a voice from the shadows as she daydreamed. When she opened her eyes, she saw someone watching her from the corner. The face was obscured by the darkness, and it was a tall figure. She felt a chill run down her spine and she immediately turned away, however the figure talked once more.
The figure said, “You’re wearing the pins I gave you.” You look stunning in them.
The frightened and perplexed clown infant raised her head and gazed up. What made them aware of the pins and who was this person? However, the figure was impeding her ability to run. She sucked hard and, with her heart pounding in her chest, looked up at the figure.
The figure said, moving closer, “It’s me.” I was curious about how you were doing.
The little clown baby saw that the figure was a kind-looking man with a gentle smile as it got closer. She felt her anxiety gradually dissipate because he had a twinkle in his eye.
The man said, reaching out to take the clown baby’s hand, “I’m George Orwell.” I wanted to present you with these pins to honor your first birthday. I hope that every time you put them on, they make you happy and make you smile.
The clown baby’s heart warmed as she smiled. She thanked George Orwell and watched as he left, slowly disappearing into the shadows.
The little clown baby was aware that she would always remember the kind man who had given her the colorful pins and that she would treasure them. As the sun went down slowly, she put the pins back on and hugged her knees.