Friday, September 6, 2013

A small room inside a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

I awoke this morning to the echo of hammers. It is common to wake up this way. Construction is everywhere. A house that was recently renovated for selling is now under demolition. Plans for its replacement await approval.

Between these echoes a crow complains. Something that happened years ago, when a raccoon climbed a tree and ate its egg. The crow remembers. Every time the racoon crosses the alley, the crow swoops down in silence.

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