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Hate Drills!

This afternoon, I had the fright of my life. It was one of those afternoons that the whole world seems asleep: it was quiet and peaceful. I was dozing in my cage and Jan was quietly reading next to me, when suddenly hell broke loose. Our neighbors had chosen that exact moment to drill some holes in the concrete wall that separates their living room from ours. You must know that in our neighborhood you can hear the neighbors sneeze, so you might guess what a noise there was all of a sudden. I fell off my perch, hit the floor and wildly flew through my cage. Jan's heart almost stopped too, partly because of the sudden noise and partly because of my reaction. When the neighbor stopped drilling, he used a hammer. Bang! Bang! Bang! If there is one sound that I hate more than drilling, it is hammering. It didn't stop. I think that our neighbors wanted to recreate the Eiffel tower in their living room, because it went on and on and on like that. I can tell you, that the rest of the day I was a nervous wreck.

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