silence

 The builders in the neighbours house have been making noise since half past seven this morning, first with a routing device for wood and lately with an electric demolition hammer. It is to be understood that they want to get the work done before midday.

Now it is four minutes to ten and the church bell of Saint Martins makes it's noise, a clamour that just goes on and on. At the same time every day. The son is up, he is to be heard rushing up and down the stairs outside. And in the distance an ambulance sounds it's klaxon on it's way to help someone in need. And now the pigeons are cooing. The clock is ticking- and now the big bells of Saint Martins sound for the hour. Four bells and then ten. Now that spring has past the only birds left seem to be the pigeons, the neighbours hens, and the hawks. There is the sound of some late brood of birds clamouring for food for a short while, it is not clear where they are situated.

The clock on the wall ticks too. And the tinnitus' hiss never stops, fading when it receives not attention and howling into the foreground when any attempt is made to enjoy the silence