The laughter from the outside

I was sitting yesterday in my compound on my rocking chair, reading From the Dust Returned by Ray Bradbury. It was a warm day, and the leaves on my trees were swinging along with the slow breeze. I had some music playing on my small radio, it was some soft song about love.

I heard a peal of laughter, it had jumped over my fence, rode the winds and entered my soul. I knew who it was, my neighbour Alexandria. She laughs with genuine emotion, she smiles from within, and transforms herself with her personality.

She is good looking, has a nice body, but she is no extraordinary beauty. Till she laughs, that is, at which time she turns into a being of splendor; just as the personality of cleopatra was an integral part of her beauty, so is the sense of humour of Alexandria the gust that lifts her into the realms of godess-like loveliness.

I called out to Alexandria and her friend, and invited her in for a drink. She came in, and we chatted, We spoke about the Russian Revolution, about her, about my journies, and about a lot of other things, significant or not. It got late, and she left and with her the shine out of my eyes, for the sun had sunk below the trees.

I went back into the house and switched on the television. I watched the news for a bit, stuck in Resevoir dogs and watched a bit of it. After 10 minutes, I switched it off and went to the bar counter, got myself a bitter lemon, stood at the door and drank it. The palm leaves of the neighbours rustled and whispered to themselves. My cat appeared at the top of the fence, in stark profile. It walked slowly up the fence and away.

Home was peaceful, but I was bored. I had nothing to do.

A group of young boys spoke loudly outside, and one of them made some joke, and they burst into laughter. They laughed from outside my fence for a long time, expanding on their joke. Then they left.

I went out and stood by the gate. A few solitary figures strolled along, a child rode a bicycle up the road. From the clubhouse down the road, I heard a group of men roar with laughter, and heard a clink of beer glasses.

I closed the gate, went back into the house and sent an email to Colonel Jacob.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

sounds like Mark's place in Constantia .....

2:05 AM  
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