They were laughing at the sign
that read “hugh jass party”
They passed it, laughing,
and headed down the hill
when D stopped them to say
“Hey, we’re missing someone.”
They were laughing at the sign
when they turned to find their friend
and the laughter stopped
at a bitter, bitter end.
When he dropped to the ground
they’d been laughing at the sign,
so they missed the cut-off
of his high-pitched sound.
The laughter stuck in their throats
and their legs froze in place as they watched.
His body was laughing,
his mouth too busy with foam to form the noise.
His body laughed
and quaked
and flinched
and his body became caked
with the dirt and dust
that he kicked into the air.
His body laughed
when security finally came
and they still stood
stock-still,
unable to come to terms
or understand who was to blame
as they carted him off.
He didn’t come back that day.
He didn’t come back that night.
He didn’t come back at all,
and they were forever haunted by the fright
they felt when the laughter died away that day.