Outside my window : reflections on Malta's overdevelopment

Abstract

It is early December. The first, to be precise. It is six in the morning, and I am holding a mug of lukewarm coffee in my right hand. Outside the sliding window, stationary metal structures obstruct the view of the valley. I am in my small apartment on the island of Malta, and despite the time of year, I am not feeling cold at all. I long for a cooler breeze. I wish to freeze a little. My tweed jacket has been hanging in the wardrobe for over a year, and I do not think I will be putting it on anytime soon. That jacket reminds me of the many spare buttons my mother has at home. The ones she got from the newsagent’s that has since disappeared, to make way for a huge apartment block. That shop was the definition of clutter. In each corner stood an eclectic collection of assorted items—pencils, cigarettes, cold drinks, newspapers, and sweets. [extract]