Sunday, April 29, 2018 1:09 AM

I feel then see, as I walk past the house in progress on the pedestrian street, that the paving stones have become rougher and less even. Several days before, the stones had been torn up by the workmen, perhaps to install something beneath them. I thought that I had seen a palette of fresh stones, but those may have been used inside the fence. The old stones are back more or less where they were, in the same pattern, but dusted with grit. Further down the street, I find myself momentarily lost. The swath of purple flowers overhead is gone, washed down from their tree and away by the week's torrential rains. Looking down to the end of the block, I recognize the low bollard across the street ahead and how the road widens beyond it. I am a few meters from home.