“You won’t go gently”, the doctor tells the boy. “It will be hell.”
He’d go into details, but the kid would never fathom it. He’s just too young. Not that the disease cares. It has taken his parents. Soon it will take the boy.
Though the virus is decimating the population, the kids are still best off. They will last three weeks, sometimes a full month. But how comforting is that when bursting ulcers will eventually destroy you from within as your glands swell and cut off all oxygen to your lungs?
Yet not a frown is seen on the boy’s face. His gaze doesn’t look at the doctor at all but towards the window. And he smiles.
When there is nothing left to salvage, what is there to do but laugh it off?
The doctor gestures in the motley gang behind the glass.
“Send in the clowns!” he yells.
In the boy’s eyes, they’re already there.
300 stories 
Such pathos in so few words…as always, excellent writing.
My goodness… Quite powerful.
Always liked that line….”send in the clowns”….
You never disappoint.
Wow!
Love your blog! I look forward to reading more of your minimalist flash… It is my favorite genre in which to write and I truly enjoy reading the work of others who share my love of this succinct medium. Found you through your follow of my blog and was pleased beyond measure. Thank you! Lynn Radford