pealing like bells.

it comes as a surprise to some when i say that i have a laugh that can stop foot traffic; this is because it rarely comes out to play. my typical laugh is a far smaller affair--quiet and polite, occasionally bordering on the inaudible. certainly a far cry from the open-bell sound that peals from my throat when i am thoroughly delighted. that laugh is loud authoritative; that laugh wears steel-toed combat boots and loves dark irises. that laugh loves a good beer and dancing until she's too tired to move.

that laugh is also, unsurprisingly, an elusive creature. particularly of late. as i edge ever closer to the finish of what rapidly escalated into a rather unsavory epoch, i've grown more and more austere. mainly, i'm sure you'll be shocked to know, because i've my nerves have been absolutely ripped to shreds. laughter has not been high on the agenda.

which made it all the more lovely when on this morning's train, i found myself cackling like a banshee: head thrown back, throat open, voice in full glow. attracting looks from my fellow commuters that ranged from disgusted to startled.

we draw closer to the end. i can only hope this heralds the return of my sense of humor, becuase it felt exquisite to laugh like that.