He put his arms around her in a circular embrace. They used to marry us off at seventeen, rush us into things before we had time to protest. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school.
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