Sunday Childhood Memory - Für Elise
I am sleeping on the large bed in the bedroom at the end of the short arm of the L-shaped hallway. The door leading to the hallway is closed but all the sounds nevertheless still squeak through the door jams and below the door. It is not a well-fitting door. The window let's in the wounds of mopeds and 100cc bikes. Of stray dogs barking. The beep of a car horn.
The wooden floored hallway, beyond the door, transmits echoes of all that is happening in the upstairs duplex. Footsteps of my parents - maybe. The soft click-click walk of the golden haired cat - possibly. The sound of the toilet being flushed - occasionally?
Musical notes from a piano in the living room also squeak through the cracks and find their way into my ears. I awake to Für Elise being played at my grandmother's house in Parede, Portugal
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