memorypost-denise-schultz

There was no better sound than her knowing laugh. The one that let you know she thought whatever you were saying was funny, which coming from her was no faint praise. She knew her funny. The same laugh, that also signaled she knew where you were going with ‘it’. You could hear it coming with her breath, just a nanosecond before the laughter left her throat and hit your ears. She always got the joke, even the feeble or unformed ones. Years of improv had trained her to anticipate it at the threshold, before it dashed through the door and caught you unawares. Actually her talent was inherent.