outside the door, he was quiet for a moment. she listened to his breathing, heard it skipped as he swallowed. then he made a low rumble of anguish that became a growl of grief. his shoes squealed as he turned suddenly, then slammed his fist against the far wall. a shower of plaster chunks fell to the floor, followed by the slamming of his bedroom door. then another crash, something larger this time, a nightstand or a lamp hurled into the wall. in her head, she followed the path of his rampage, seeing each piece of furniture smash into bits and wishing she could do the same. she felt the pain in her hand striking the wall, lashed out at everything until she was swallowed by exhaustion. yet some rational part of her brain held her back.
物事をののしること。
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