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14 Fugitive Laughter I visit Good Hope Lutheran Church with friend Sylva where Reverend Hammer pounds his sermon, words bouncing off stained glass like frantic doves, as if those windows, leaded with outlines of saints, were all that separated this flock from heaven. But amid the theatrics of his skyward delivery, the backdrop of morning sun flickering through cobalt and crimson panes—stilted saints caught in eternal poses of rapt attention, I glimpse the congregation pewed in rows, straight lines straddling heaven and hell. The attention morphs to a tension that snaps— takes me to funny, and funny becomes contagious, my shoulders, then Sylva’s rising and falling. Even as we try to shackle our urge to release unbridled laughter, it rolls forth from our deepest cells, winged, and beyond salvation. ...

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