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  • Writer's pictureAram Mitchell


All up and down Washington Avenue the bulldozers, excavators, and steamrollers are in full force. They have been for a while now. But yesterday I had the windows open, and every now and again the heavy machinery would reverberate and I could feel the pulse of it vibrate through the whole office.

Last night (while we watched the one where ice and fire finally meet for a standoff at Winterfell) I spent ninety minutes on the couch, just the way that Kali the cat likes it. She stretched out along the length of my legs that bridged the couch to the coffee table where I was resting my feet. All throughout the evening I could feel the tiny rumbling pulse of the soft purrs of her contentment.

This morning I woke up to the buzz of my alarm on the bedside table. Not the sound of it, but the feel of it. The volume was turned down so I didn’t hear anything, but the vibration of its proximity whispered me awake.

Now I have a Beach Boys song stuck in my head.

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