8. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. ‘I am not in the least in a rage. The audience was made up of parents, teachers, and a few other curious folks from town, all sitting hushed in anticipatory silence as the school orchestra assembled onstage. Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat.
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