The woman who lives in the apartment below mine spends nearly every night screaming at her pre-teen son; don't sigh with regret...he gives her back as good as he gets. Usually what they are saying is pretty unintelligible except for the anger, which comes across clearly.
Tonight, though, I heard her words plainly as she screamed: "I'm taking a shower, I'm taking a shower!"
The building I live in is 150 years old, and recently someone told me it once housed a stage coach terminal. My little suburban town was at one time served by two different interurban railroad lines and a traction trolley...and, apparently, there was a stage coach route that stopped here, too.
This house has strange acoustics. Sometimes I don't hear another soul in the building all day, though there are eight units, and my apartment is next to the front door; at other times I can hear a neighbor screaming over the sound of her shower. The house stands alone on a low hill, surrounded only by traffic and crabgrass. I moved here last July, but immediately recognized it had been a mistake. When my lease is up this July, I think I'll move again. I just can't take the silence and the screaming.
On and on.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
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