An afterthought

It's not just the house that is quiet. I am strongly aware of the absence of any noise of any description above my head, and that I can't hear the constant pounding of infantile feet upon my ceiling. I'm sure that evil little child must be racing around with clogs on. It is wonderful to be allowed to think in total peace, and not to have to be on edge, waiting for the moment that the racket starts. And it always does start sooner or later. I have said a few times lately that those neighbours of mine are less noisy. Well perhaps they are, but not by much. I've had a couple of people telling me that what I am reacting to is 'reasonable' noise, and I've been trying to convince myself of this. But the more I think about it the noise that I struggle to cope with is not at all reasonable. In fact it's totally inconsiderate noise, even antisocial noise. The noise that I have to put up with is anything but reasonable. Anyone who tries to tell me otherwise either does not understand what I am trying to describe, or else they are talking complete bollocks.