No particular reason, but thought it worth airing.
Will firstly expand on the clattering last night. Initially I'd thought it was the builders, as they often work late. We have a central well in the building, and it is difficult to discern where noise is coming from. Didn't recognise the voices, and had already spotted a stranger in the building, so I took a large knife and went for a walk.
The main stairwell lights were off, and the landing lightswitch on the ground floor. Firstly I checked the top floor, and found an unlocked door into an area being renovated. Downstairs to switch the lights on, and back up to see if I could find anything in the dark top floor. the stairwell lights threw a dim glow into part of it.
Nothing to see, so after checking all doors from the stairwell, and listening intently, it was apparent that the noise was not from here.
Back to the apartment, do some work (and writing).
A gunshot and some shouting very close. Nothing to see, but then it occurs... who would you call? Who could you call? I don't even know the phone number for the police, and only speak English here. There was no sense of personal threat, but it got me thinking.
The second shot was at 3.30am. Woke me up. Nearly called, but again, to wake someone up when not directly threatened is not fair. Why have somebody else worry. It made me realise which one out of all these peripheral numbers stored in my phone is my true emergency number though. Who is yours? And whose are you?
Now trying not to use the word 'I' in writing. Obviously this blog is still completely ego-centric, but would prefer it to be about musings on life rather than pure self-indulgence. Or at least look that way.
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