Back in the alley

home at last: in my own bed, with a snuggly cat

At first it seemed as if this would be the one time my surroundings hadn’t morphed somehow in the weeks away. Till I looked out from my small back bedroom balcony to see a house off to the right, the one whose water tank greenery was immortalized just over a year ago here, in the process of being dismantled.

No bulldozer in sight; I doubt one would even fit down the even-tinier lane that gives access to the house, branching off the “main” (admittedly calling it main is a stretch) alley that my building is on.

So the demolition is being carried out with other tools—a jackhammer, I heard at some point during the day, as well as by hand; someone out there is using a crowbar last I checked. As often happens, the bricks that survive intact are being carefully placed to the side; they are in a pile next to the water tank, itself laying on its side by a stack of salvaged metal and wood pieces, and will be reused.

Seeing a house being taken apart in this way is strange and personal. Rooms and crevices open up to surrounding inspection; some—is that a basement?—perhaps have not seen sunlight in years. Doors that no longer have a function; the metal banister of an outside staircase, the steps now gone, points upward to emptiness.

I wonder what will take its place.

**

Laying in my own bed again, with a cat who keeps demanding more and more snuggles and stritches; Marv does this by letting out a squeaky little meow—reserved only for these occasions—whenever my hands pause for a few seconds.

The thought comes to me, unexpectedly: What I have ever done to deserve so much happiness.

Seeing the struggles of others is I guess a part of travel, or just a part of life and seeing so many people one hasn’t seen in ages brings it up; I wonder if it can seem more glaring because we are more inured to the challenges in our own places of residence.

I think the answer to what any of us have done to deserve happiness is simply nothing; moments of happiness come to all of us no matter our circumstances and how difficult they might have been or continue to be.

It’s just up to us to grab them. A cliché, I know. But still highly recommended: grab them—or in this case, skritchin them.