No Peace To Be Found

The Bank Holiday - Everyone in the immediate vicinity seems to take this as a signal to make as much noise as humanly possible. Through the windows, your stressed author can currently hear: A sledgehammer demolishing a wall, an untended Jack Russell next door barking incessantly in a pitch so high it is akin to fingernails been scraped across a blackboard, a lawmower, a nearby youth revs up his low powered motorbike, and someone somewhere is playing loud techno music at a volume sufficient for the listener, but for no one else, to drown out the other sounds. The consumer has become consumed by the beast.

Your author is becoming increasingly fraught. He might withdraw to a local, quiet, public house, and take solace in alcohol, before he has one of those Falling Down moments.

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