reconnaisance

There are workmen in Cameron halls now. They're clearing it out, room by room, before they take it down, brick by brick, and try not to give us asbestos poisoning.

My room in Runymede gives me a lovely view of the back of Cameron. Right now there's a man in an orange jacket breaking a wardrobe into pieces on the top floor. He's hitting at it with a crowbar, and I can hear the banging over my music. He's just broken the sides from the back and the back has fallen against the window, pulling the curtain down a bit.

Now he's next door, making a heap of all the bits of wardrobe. He's taking them from each room and stockpiling them in the far left room of that section of the building. He's throwing open each window as he goes to give himself some air. Presumably because of all the asbestos.

I'm wondering if he should be wearing a mask, wondering how loud this work is going to get. The university don't seem to be in much of a hurry to get rid of Athlone and Cameron halls, but I assume it's gonna get a bit more hectic in the new year.

They've switched the power back on in Cameron now, and the lights that were left on by past students a couple of years ago are now lit. Before I go to sleep I switch off the lights in my room and open the curtains so I can see the sky out the window. Now I also get the orange glow from about ten bedroom windows. It's weird, I can see into them and there's never anyone there.

Now the man has moved into the rooms further left, the ones with the balconies. Last year in Runymede you could have leaned out the window and hollered to your mates in Cameron. I wonder if they climbed out the windows and had parties on the balconies at night. I wonder if I should stop wandering around in my underwear now that there's workmen out there instead.

What I'm really wondering is if these diligent workmen will leave any windows open when they get off today.

A couple of them just noticed me watching them and came to the window to wave. I wonder if they're the ones who saw me dancing to Head Automatica in a towel the other day. I do hope not.

On the other hand, I remember Kate's comment about chatting them up. A couple of nights ago we were pretty sure we saw someone jump out of one of the ground floor windows. Or at least, we saw someone running away behind the fences and the window they were running from was definitely closed before.

That window taunted us. We've been out there before they put the fences up and tried half-heartedly to get in, but to no avail. That window, it said, break in, you know you want to.

We do want to.

If we could convince them to leave a window open one night, just one night, everything would be fine. I'm not one for creepy deserted buildings but, really, how can we not do this? We couldn't live with ourselves if we didn't.

Workman number 1 just used a mirror to flash sunlight into my room.

There was me thinking I'd be expelled for not doing enough work. Clearly this will not be the case.

Time spent in reconnaisance is seldom wasted.