Fwd: mouthpiece screwy

A great clapping of tortillas? WTF is that a euphemism for?

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The women brought masa, and began a great clappingof tortillas.
He asked for a room where his esposa could rest. Look what Mexican
huarachesthe Niña is going to wear! The black eyes looked at her with
a rather awful challenge.
Andthat twilit brow, and those remote eyes, like a death-virgin,
washe. Kate stood on the terrace facing the darkness, while the
rainthreshed down. Thank you for my life, he said, closing his eyes.
The foot blistered and swelled, her face was red andpainful. She rose
to go upstairs again, into the dark, empty, masterlesshouse. Kate was
pale andall her will had left her. She went across the courtyard, that
was littered with horse-droppings, to the car. Let the soul come
back,or the universe will be cold for me and for many men.
Let the soul come back,or the universe will be cold for me and for many men.
Hesaid, perhaps it would be painful to you, no? He looked at heragain,
as reluctantly he opened the door. He was so still, so unnoticing, and
thedarkness of the nape of his neck was so like invisibility.
Thecommon threads that bound her to humanity seemed to have snapped.
Soldiers were tapping at the glass pane, for the lieutenant.
They were gruesome, but it didnot matter that they were dead men. All
of them men who had been in the flush of life.
She went downstairs with the young lieutenant. They cameto murder Don
Ramón, you know, Señora! Now she wanted this veiled elusiveness in
herself, shewanted to be addressed in the third person.
He still watched her with a glare of ferocity and suspicion. The car
stopped for the lieutenant tocall to the peons under the wall.
She trembled, and her limbs seemed to fuse like metal melting down.
A lonely woman went up the shingle with a water-jar on hershoulder.
At least it is better than sitting still.
Gone in the fadeless fire, which has no death. All she could see of
the naked body was the terrible absence of theliving soul of it.
Theres something stupid andwrong about it.
In the uncanny flashing of his eyes she saw a gladness thatfrightened
her a little. Kate felt rather as if she were coming to, from a swoon,
as Ramónspoke to her and looked at her. And that face that stabbed the
throat of the bandit was he!
And she would feel her own pride dissolving, going. But beautiful
beyond words the perfect, delicate scarlet weavingin. One day appeared
Guillermo, and said: could he come back? Kate was bewildered by the
new mystery of her own elusiveness.
Perhaps it is clothing that makes dead peoplegruesome and absurd.
Two were the mozos with guns, watching in thezaguán.