Lug bit his lip nervously as he walked towards the two people in the center of the stage.

Each of his steps made a metallic noise in what looked like an arena.

He felt like a gladiator about to face his first opponent.

He was unarmed and ready to surrender.

His palms were sweaty, he hoped he wouldn't have to shake hands.

He approached under the curious eyes of the two strangers who were waiting for him in the center of the stage.

Once at two yards from them, he stopped.

The man standing in front of him was much taller than it seemed.

Two or three heads taller than Lug.

His jaw was square, a beard of a few days dressed it.

His forehead hosted some fine wrinkles, a lock of hair was falling down because of the badly applied gel.

Just below, the big blue eyes of this man analyzed Lug.

Lug turned the head, a little intimidated, he looked at the second person.

A beautiful woman of about forty years, probably.

She was slender.

Her cheekbones were marked and her face very made up.

Her hair was tied back.

She was holding her hips as she looked at Lug.

Her expression was softer than the man's.

"I would like to know if you are looking for someone, I would like to join the circus."

Said Lug, speaking without thinking.

He couldn't string two sentences together in his head, so he improvised.

After Lug spoke, there was a silence.

The man looked embarrassed, the woman laughed.

"Sorry, but we don't need anyone" said the man.

Lug jumped at the chance to give up.

"Ah, damn. Never mind. Thanks a lot!" he raised his shoulders as he spoke.

Then he started to leave, saying goodbye.

"I'll train all week with Xam, it will be a much better use of my time," he thought.

At that moment he heard the woman speak.

"No, but wait. You don't know that!" she said.

Then Lug, who had already moved a few meters away, heard light footsteps coming closer.

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"Hey, young man. Wait a minute. Don't listen to him. You see there? Go through that door, you'll see several caravans. Go knock on the one at the end, painted red. That's where the director lives, he's the one who can tell you if we're looking for someone or not." She had put her hand on Lug's shoulder. Her nails were varnished with many different colors.

Her makeup hid some wrinkles.

She looked young, but damaged by life.

Her voice was slightly hoarse, it didn't match with her face, sign that she probably smoked.

Lug listened to her talking, following her thin finger with his eyes.

She was mimicking the path he had to take.

When she finished talking, she winked at him.

"She's nice," thought Lug.

He had calmed down.

He thanked her, waved goodbye to the man - who had a scowl on his face and his arms crossed - and then headed for the white door he had been told to take.

As he opened it, he felt a cold breeze brush his face.

He was now outside.

It was dark even though it was almost noon.

Above his head, Lug could see thick clouds threatening to spill their content.

Under his feet, grass had replaced the sand of the circus.

Many caravans were parked there.

Unlit garlands were tied between them.

There was no one there, but he could see light in the caravans.

He decided to hurry to the director before he ran into anyone else.

In the back of his mind, Lug hoped the director would tell him that he didn't need a new employee.

He still hoped he could avoid working here.

He walked carefully, without making any noise.

He passed the wooden tables, looked for a moment with curiosity at the cages he saw in the distance, and continued.

He almost tripped on a unicycle.

Finally he arrived in front of the red caravan.

He watched it carefully, before knocking on the door.

From the outside he could see light, a few cacti lying at the window, and cups turned upside down, drying.

He did not have time to knock as the door opened with a bang.

An old man had appeared.

He was skinny with a long gray beard.

He was wearing khaki green cargo shorts.

Shirtless, one could see his matte skin, several tattoos on his chest were slightly hidden by white hairs.

His eyes were hidden by sunglasses.

He stared at Lug without moving, like an animal gauging its prey - before leaping.

The old man, after a long observation, sat down on his doorstep, his feet resting on the small metal steps that led to his den.

He took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it.

He took a deep breath - and expelled the smoke, which escaped as if it had been held prisoner for too long.

He pulled up his sunglasses which revealed two small black eyes.

"You, you're not from here," the old man said in a surprisingly soft voice.

Lug felt at ease, this man gave him a feeling of quietude.

"Hello..." said Lug, realizing that he had frozen without speaking.

"I had to pass for a strange guy" he thought.

Then he resumed his sentence.

"…I was told to come and see you. I'm looking to join the circus, do you have a place for me?" asked Lug.

The old man kept on smoking.

His cigarette was already almost finished, he took big puffs of air every time he put his lips on the filter.

"I suppose you know how to use a broom?" asked the old man.

"Um... Yes...? Why?"

"I'll pay you under the minimum wage, but it'll be under the table, so no taxes. You start tomorrow. You'll clean everything that needs to be cleaned."

As he said these words, he took one last deep breath into his cigarette and threw it to the ground.

He was about to go back to his trailer.

Lug stopped him by telling him :

"I can only work from Monday to Wednesday.

In saying this, Lug hoped the man would reply that he couldn't take someone who only worked three days in a week.

But it was just the opposite.

"Yes, no worries. Come back tomorrow, Margon will tell you what to do, he's the big guy with the big arms. He lives in the half-blue trailer over there."

The man pointed to a caravan and disappeared into his den, closing the door behind him.

It started to rain.

Lug had no desire to be there, let alone come back.

"Why do I bother? I could be doing some serious strengthening training or even becoming a world champion at something.... Pfff."

And so Lug took off on his way back, mumbling inaudible complaints.