This morning, Emily, my mother, and I all woke to what sounded like somebody upstairs using a jackhammer on a hardwood floor. The whole house was vibrating, saturated with squealing and rattling noises.
A few minutes of pyjama-clad inquiries led me to the neighbour involved with the noise: “Oh, we’re just cutting some beams in the basement.”
Brain-thoughts, at that moment: “First thing in the morning? On a Saturday? With what sounds like an misfiring chainsaw?”
Promises of ‘just a few more minutes’ secured, back-to-bed trundling.
Brain-thoughts, just before returning to sleep: “Those aren’t the beams holding up this building, are they?”
Oh, it is too hot here…