[“…a convulsive laughter without joy, full of dread.” – Hugues Le Roux]
The Leader is about to tell a joke. We know from his slight smile, from the way he holds his lips and cocks his eyebrows, that he is about to tell a joke. That joke. He has only one. Since we all laugh heartily every time he tells it, it’s the only joke he needs.
Sometimes I think he knows what he’s doing to us, how he toys with us, how the joke’s on us. But we are still alive, still laughing, roaring with laughter, breath choking on our laughter.
Those who failed to laugh are no longer with us. Even those who were not given the chance either to laugh or to cry; they are not here, now, either.
<END>
THE THURSDAY PITCH
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Memorable Fancies 
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