Monday, November 10, 2008

The Curious incident of music through the walls

The first week in our new home and I have spent countless hours moving the curtains to the left, then to the right. Putting up books on a shelf then moving them. Up, lying on their faces- this is the role we have taken upon ourselves in making sure this new abode is a reflection of the Doring Preston Force. 
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I have come to realize that on our world-map shower curtain, they have left out Toronto. Was this intentional I wonder as I look at that blank blue space where it should be. 
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At the beginning of the week, I laid my head on my newly fluffed pillows. Through the floor the sounds of classical music pierced through the floor. Then the veejay speaking. The music would begin lightly and then penetrate through the floor just before REM. 
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The following evening, our ears followed the music into another room. With the shutters shut and the apartment below us on virtual lockdown, we couldn't understand the music that seemed to dance in the rooms below us.
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"It's a safe house for the Moussad" states P Bonez.  "It's a crazy thriller writer who only eats nuts and berries!!!" I exclaim. 
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Today, a smiling gray haired woman introduces herself. "You are not in the Moussad" I tell her. "Excuse me?" she answers, confused. I ignore my last statement. The curious incident has been solved. She is merely a widow, who comes to practice her flute in the afternoons in her apartment below and I am going to watch her play at her old age home next month.

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