We live a half-block from a set of busy traintracks and, in the middle of the night, when a train passes along them, the sound coming from this hurtling beast of wheels and metal-on-metal is that of ten-thousand heavy, wild, yelping dogs. It is so incredibly loud and low. The rumbling shakes our floors and walls. I feel it beneath my feet.
The proximity to the traintracks was one of the things we were most warned of when we said we were falling for a house on this street, but it’s quickly becoming one of my favourite things about this particular location. It’s comforting to know that even when everyone nearby is tucking quietly into their darkened bedrooms, at least there is someone out there moving around, making noise, and shining bright lights.
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