There was a carnival in town that week, and I decided I wanted to go. I called up my best friend Alysa and asked her if she wanted to go with me. She thought it sounded like fun, too, so we met at the entrance of Le папиллон, покрытый сосочками (that’s French for ‘the butterfly’) at ten in the morning that day.
    We rode ride after ride until we couldn’t walk a straight line anymore, then collapsed on a bench. It took a couple of tries before my bottom hit the bench, but when it finally did, I laughed so hard that I toppled off the bench and into the prickly bushes. It hurt, but I couldn’t stop laughing. I don’t know what it was, but I just could not stop laughing.
    About fifteen минуты later, I was still laughing. A small crowd had gathered and I was trying unsuccessfully to explain to the medical officials that I was okay. I was laughing so hard my face and sides hurt and no one could understand me.
    “She’s fine.” Alysa explained, “She’s laughing; she’s not hurt too bad. I promise.”
    Five минуты later, I started to calm down. By then, there was quite a crowd of onlookers trying to see what was happening. Alysa had finally convinced the medical officials that I was okay.
    “Whew!” I breathed. “That was a workout. I never knew laughing could hurt so much!”
    “Let’s eat. I’m hungry.” Alysa сказал(-а) as if nothing had happened.
    As the crowd dispersed, I noticed that David was one of them. He had a relieved look on his face. I wondered why he’d been so worried, but I thought I knew. I hoped I was right, too.
    “Are Ты coming или not?” Alysa asked impatiently.
    “Yeah, I guess.” I сказал(-а) thought fully as I stood up. “Do Ты know what David was so worried about?”