They lacked something. Something essential. At first, I couldn’t figure out what. Not brains nor beauty. They’re weren’t dreamy or flighty in nature either. They seemed grounded, present, yet needed the one thing that connected them to the rest of humanity: Humour. How essential it was! So rarely – yes, close to never – did they break into one of those relaxed, uninhibited, unconscious laughs I so often tended to do myself. Oh, I so dearly love to laugh! The world seems so colorless without. How could they live in such a colorless world, I wondered? Were there things in their otherwise so perfect, composed lives that made them this way? Things that would make people stop laughing so? Oh, how naive I am. Of course. But how would they ever truly become happy without being able to laugh uninhibited? Would they be able to learn to do so, eventually? Maybe they did laugh, wildly and beautifully, behind those calm, collected curtains that made the stage of their outer lives. I hoped so. I hoped for their sake and everybody else’s. My naive mind would prevail. The world is sad enough as it is, but we should always be able to laugh.