For Laughter’s Sake

Saravjot Hansrao posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-38 on 2022-02-23



“And then they say women aren’t funny!!” The decadent walls of the nightclub shiver as the crowd jeers, breaking into a maniacal laughter. Katie’s petite frame curtsys’, twirls and curtsys’ again. The flaming red lips break into a smile. Raising her hands up in the air celebrating another sold out house she retreats from the stage, the petite frame slithering into the folds of the luxurious velvet curtains.  The enthusiastic applause continues for a while before gradually fading into the din of smoke and smell of liquor. Katie scurries backstage to be greeted equally vehemently by her Manager, Martha. Martha is waiting with flutes of bubbly champagne. “Here’s to humour…….and funny women!” Martha’s masculine laughter erupts as the glasses clink in celebration. “Oh yes!” chimes Katie as she admires herself in the floor length dressing mirror. Kicking off the stilettoes she throws herself into the couch, raises her freshly waxed legs and savours the richness of the champagne. “What a journey Martha!” From a clueless bride to a devoted yet oblivious wife and then a fierce, accomplished stand-up comedian. From the time the better half sneered at my sense of comedy to a houseful, roaring audience. From being despised for stepping into the male dominated territory of comedy to turning down shows for lack of dates.”  Truuuuuly, what a journey!” “Being labelled a rabble-rouser for loving myself pained the most.”   She signals for Martha to leave. Martha ignores, noticing the welling up eyes. “Not very pleasant things happen when I leave you alone. Remember when I walked away from the Pennsylvania tour!” The thought leaves Katie in splits as she lunges forward to secure the champagne flute. “Yeah! I remember! I almost bought a villa and married the octogenarian owner.” “A toast to the good times and the bad ……they were my lessons in self-preservation.” “Remember when I first met you, caught between the devil and the deep sea. Walking the tightrope, while yearning to define my identity. Making undercover trips to nightclubs to determine what was being loved. The lame answers to inquisitive questioning by the family.” “You know what, Martha!”  “Yes! I’m listening Katie go ahead!” Noticing the slurring voice, Katie exclaims, “Oh! C’mon Martha…no one gets drunk on champagne.” “No girl! Stop chastising……I’m not drunk.” Martha retorts straightening herself. Katie laughs out the gregarious laugh she is now famous for. “Do you know what was the defining moment…….?” Katie turns towards Martha for a possible answer but ……… only to be greeted by deep snores.  She has lit a cigarette by now and waves it in the air trying some aerial art to aid the ongoing self-reflection. Unknowingly the cigarette smoke reveals the word, “dumped.”  A careless tear trickled which Katie swept away nonchalantly, “I was dumped! But who cares because I discovered the road where self-love transformed me into a force to reckon with.” Katie turns towards the mirror curtsy’s once again, “And that’s it from me……Goodnight!”

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