Laughter

My laughter!, W. says. It's not that I laugh more than anyone else. It's my kind of laughter. Its the sense that I can barely bring it to an end, that I've always just begun. I've barely begun to laugh, isn't that it? I could laugh forever – isn't that it? They'd cut off my head, tear me apart, and still I'd be laughing, and laughing at myself laughing, strewn along the river …