Cat Stevens Haunts my Dreams

The Scene: our Parisian apartment, on a quiet courtyard on a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood. The bedroom window faces a courtyard. Occasionally, randomly, at weird hours, someone- I can not pinpoint the apartment, or even the building- plays music. Loudly. At 4 or 5 in the morning.

Typically, this is not party-time 5am French electronic pop music. Last time this happened, it was the Dire Straights. This time, it was Cat Stevens Greatest Hits.

I rolled out of bed, half pleased at the familiarity and half freaked out that a neighbor of mine would be listening to Cat Stevens THAT LOUD AT THAT TIME OF THE MORNING. The resident ravens haven't even had a chance to wake me up.

And now this.

AND THIS.

I shut my double-glazed super soundproof windows in a huff and then fitfully go back to sleep. Except now my dreams are about Harold and Maude, and then Maude comes back to give me nightmares about Rosemary's Baby.

Moooooonshadow, moonshadow...