I didn't notice it at first. But the ka-chung ka-chung has pushed me to the brink. You see, our wonderful house is on a main street with a 24-hour streetcar. A few feet west of us is a gap between two lengths of streetcar track. When the #506 Westbound sails past, its metal wheels hit the gap... KA-CHUNG KA-CHUNG! A mighty thump that at times shakes the house.

"If it wasn't for that streetcar thump, I could live here forever," I've been heard to say. Well, some angel on high heard my prayer and a miracle happened earlier this month. I emerged from the house one soft morning to see orange spray paint beautifully, artfully marking the very spot of the dreaded ka-chung ka-chung. Oh, could it be?!? Is a repair on the way?

A couple of weeks later I saw, with a happy tear in my eye, a large backhoe with jackhammer attachment and 6 happy workmen in tow. They soon began to wail away on that piece of bent track and the surrounding cement. Like the Greek god Hephaestus himself, one of the workmen launched a mighty blow against the now fully exposed ka-chung ka-chung. "Hit it again," I heard myself say aloud. And with another smooth motion, like a great piston reeling with explosive power... KRANG... he hit it again.

Oh, what joyful melodies! My heart sang with every swipe and smack of that great hammer. Then all feel silent. I rushed to the window to see the workmen in their orange overalls taking a break on the neighbour's lawn; hard hats under steel toes. Rest you great warriors, but finish the deed. Ka-chung Ka-chung is not beaten yet.

Soon after their break the track is reset. New braces soldered into place and the smooth track given a polish. With a roar and a squeal the cement truck is put in its place, and the new surround poured in. But I am suspicious, I do not believe. Is ka-chung ka-chung really gone? As the thought lingers in my mind the #506 Westbound appears. I hold my breath. The workmen, aching from the afternoon's battle and yearning for the next 15 minute stretch, slowly saunter off the tracks. The foreman waves the streetcar through. My mind races. Could this be the moment I've dreamt of? Will I finally see the end of ka-chung ka-chung?

The streetcar passes with barely a sound!

Oh happy day! And to this day, the great ka-chung ka-chung has not returned. Those great men in their orange cloaks, with magic in their boots, conjured up a sweetly silent streetcar track. My house no longer shakes. My nerves no longer on their edge. Now, I smile as the streetcar whistles westward. Sometimes... I even wave.

Andrew Duff lives quietly in the eastend of Toronto, Canada.