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The Opening Ceremony In The Lottery By Shirley Jackson

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The people of the village were consumed with their work, though the lottery shadowed their thoughts. Around ten o’clock (Jackson 43), the people gathered in tight lines in front of the bank. An ancient black box held rigidly in the post master’s hand, and Mr. Winters - a man personifying death itself - was prattling off the opening ceremony obligingly. Mrs. Warner, her face puffy with worry and morning wine, looked around nervously for her son. Unlike the other mothers, she stood alone: her husband had won the lottery the prior year.
Mrs. Warner finally spotted her son among the other boys, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones (Jackson 43) possible and testing them with a slight flick of his wrist. He smiled rather than laughed (Jackson

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