New neighbours, new life.

They have only just moved into the basement flat of the rickety Georgian house we call “Home” but the entire neighbourhood already knows what colour their pants are. We’re also speculating when they’re likely to buy new ones.

The directors of a booming (as they all are) music production company moved in downstairs and, true to form, took to showcasing the produce of their hard-labour… when we’re all hoping for a shut eye.

With the exception of those having a sexy-time, we fashion our pillows into ear-muffs as a tribute to the inexplicable talent being paraded.

As if by magic, those recently nesting in the basement across from theirs are also unaware of how far a whisper carries in this street. Even before the gossip kicks in!

I’m sure their anecdotes will grow thick enough to paste a few satirical words into the odd funny post. A bit of a laugh to pad the 3-hours-sleep-a-night allowance.

Bonne nuit!

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