. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. "That would be certain destruction.
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