C164 A single calamity

As a writer. Since he couldn't write anything down, it was as if he just got on the car and didn't want to walk. Furthermore, he had to walk at night. It was both irritating and exasperating. We clenched our hands into fists on the table, grinding our teeth and squeaking like rats. "Bang, bang, bang …!" A series of rapid ringing sounds. I hit the table hard with my fist.

"Bang!" All of a sudden