Racket

Another morning waking up to saws ripping away at old bricks on the apartment being renovated outside my bedroom window. For the past six months there has been noise. Day in and day out, continual, obnoxious, mind-numbing noise. As much as I love living in a city where the streets are lined with the remnants of old plantations that have been split into duplexes and row-houses, I get tired of the noise of continual construction and repair. It is early in the morning and these men behind me are blaring classic rock and hammering away like they are trying to break the sound barrier. Every morning is the same thing, What is taking so long? In six months, a crew of men haven’t been able to complete a few repairs. Both of my roommates are gone, my cat is asleep on the living room couch, and all I yearn for is silence.  The type of silence that makes you forget where you are. Silence that allows you to think and to feel. I can’t expect such a luxury living in a city that never sleeps. A city where I can never sleep. Where the noise doesn’t allow me to sleep. 

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