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47 Azza, The Ceremony of Grief Women in black, rock their bodies, beat their chests, girl-children serve in glass tumblers steaming auburn tea, baklava on plastic trays. Here, tears flow like streams, wet the ornate Persian rugs and in the courtyard where she poured kerosene on her head, struck a match, silver fish roam the small pond, oblivious. On the other side of the yard, men sit with hookah pipes, crack salted pistachios. The butcher who was to take the girl as bride sits on an embroidered cushion, strokes his twisting gray mustache. ...

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