On the day I was born, eighteen people died in succession in the village.
Butchers, bamboo craftsmen, widows, masons, cattle herders... Without exception, they died in strange ways.
Some were hanging from the top of big trees, swaying in the wind.
Some fell into the well and were full of toads.
Some looked like they had been bitten to death, with teeth marks all over their bodies.
Very good, I listen to it every day,