Bang. Bang. Bang! The clock strikes six and three pairs of hands hit three hammers as the day begins. In reply the crows scatter cawing like dying children. The musty air is caked with dust and cement. I roll onto my side. And then the other. I would have rolled out of my bed if it wasn’t on the floor. Rolling on the cat is the next best thing. I breathe and snort and the air is rented from my inflamed nostrils.
Bang. Bang. Bang! The air is rent with cars and construction. Helmets bearing down hammers hoping to sell the next block to as many Chinese moms as they can get. As I step out onto the pavement the magpies follow my wife as she runs. They are attracted to the smell of sweat and fear. To ward them off I toss a crumb of bread onto the path which is trampled on by a couple drinking milk tea, disregarding the use other footpath sign.
Fortunately for me, class is next door. But good luck to my wife. Her feet patter and the drills clatter. She takes off with her entourage of magpies. And I turn to head into Christ College. Bang. Bang. Bang!
L’Étranger 