Whine

A quiet day.

Next door to my flat, in the huge edifice owned by Opus Dei, there has been a high pitched wine emanating from a faulty door phone for the best part of two days. Last night at about 2 in the morning I was barefoot in my tracksuit bottoms, standing out the front with some sticky pads thinking to myself that maybe if I stuck the bell down it would stop the high pitched wine. No such luck. I just ended up ringing all the bells, but pushing them didn’t stop the whine. It just made noises in the building. So there was no point in jamming the bell down apart from pissing off one of the denizens of the building, which I considered but there was a camera in my face.

I don’t know what goes on in there. Occasionally you see priests coming in and out. Occasionally you see young women with suitcases going in going in.

Sometimes they have open days. I’ve never been. I’m sure they aren’t chopping people up. But suddenly, ringing the bell in the small hours, I started to feel uncomfortable about what sort of thing I might be waking up in there. It’s a huge quiet building most of the time. Occasionally there’s the smell of cooking onions from the big dining room downstairs. And right now there’s this constant maddening whine. I can’t find my earplugs. I hate it. I wish I could stop it. How the heck have they not fixed it yet?

Another night trying to go to sleep with it happening. It’s just on the edge of hearing. It comes into my dreams like fever. Sometimes it is too high for me to fully hear. If I had a dog it would probably be going insane. Tomorrow I’ll probably go over in the daytime and see if there’s somebody there and ask them to fix it. I mostly remember to hate it at night as my bedroom is the closest part of the flat to it. It’ll be worse for the people downstairs I’m sure. But maybe there’s just nobody in that building right now apart from caretakers, security guards and the dark thing in room 15b.

I just pottered and looked at lines. The autumn is setting in and the light is not happy light anymore. The nights are closing in. The rain is falling. Grey skies. And that fucking noise.

My only other activity today was to try to move forward this situation where a big chain of garages has overcharged me for a repair and rather than accepting it they are trying to wheedle out of it. Currently I would very much like to know someone who can access an ICME manual… I need to know clutch replacement time on a 2016 DiG-T X-Trail front wheel drive Acenta – petrol. Any mechanics out there? These fuckers need to be held out against on this. It seems to be a habitual thing for them to do, but I’m not gonna lie down easy with it.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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