I am no stranger to laughter.
I know when it's coming - when a cat's eyes light up and begin to crease around the edges. Their whiskers twitch on their lips and then they open their mouth, unable to contain the raw emotion.
I know it means joy, or excitement, or humour. I've experienced all three. When my brother trips head over paw on the floor, I laugh. When my mother noses my belly in the ticklish spot, I laugh. Sometimes, I just see one of the others laughing and I join in.
This isn't that kind of laughter. This kind cuts.
It lingers when I slink into the crook of my mother's tail. I bury my face in her fur and her tongue starts to rasp along my ears. Wretched ears, apparently imperfect. I don't want them any more.
