Boxes continued to fall from makeshift shelves above us, first some sheets, then handmade pencil cases, balls of yarn and a decorative lantern made of rice paper which bounced off her glass shelf and then landed on the TV stand.
“Save Buddha! Save Buddha!"
Directly underneath where my grandfather’s image had hung was a diminutive statue of my obachan’s many armed Buddha. His many arms had seemed to be waving at me frantically out of the corner of my eye. Though I had assumed the idol was waving me to safety, apparently they had been panicked gestures for help, so headfirst Buddha dived into my shirt and buckled himself under the safety strap of my sports bra.