Though I’ve been here two months and three previous times, I still jump and close my eyes for each cahuete sent into the day or night sky. I still cringe and show my fear (it is not exactly fear).
I know people get used to the noise, to the little particles of ash and fire falling over them. To me, it is still like a whip cracking over my head. It takes everything I have not to duck or squeal.
shewhodaresnothing 