Whenever an MRT train passes along EDSA, the door in the service passage of the ground-floor bathroom and toilet gets sucked in briefly and makes a soft, banging sound against its jamb. There is an open-space bus station at the corner of EDSA and P. Tuazon Boulevard, across which, I suppose the sound and the energy traverse, but then there is a tall, adobe wall that separates the compound our house is in from the bus station. And so, I suppose, sound and energy are capable of hurdling over walls, entering our side entrance, and moving through our ground-floor service passage.
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