If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger.
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