You hear just one at first, a clanging noise echoing down an otherwise quiet residential street. Then another joins it, another wooden or perhaps metal spoon banging against another pot. Maybe it’s across the street, or coming from a balcony or an open kitchen window.
Then as you start walking, marching really, banging on your own pot or pan, you see them coming toward you. Your neighbors, maybe people you’ve never spoken to before, and it’s hard to speak to them now so you simply smile. Or maybe you dance a bit, together. Your neighborhood is ringing.
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