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Posted

Just found in "The Nation":

I'm on the first floor of my townhouse when a "Crash!" comes from the second floor, a powerful thud-thud-thud down the stairs.



Much too loud to be a turtle heading for freedom, it turns out to be a
fake antique wooden betelnut box, now smashed into several hundred
pieces.



Toh, who helps me clean my house, looks down from the second floor. Her
face is white. "Please believe me!" she says. "I didn't do it."

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