They were passing a vacant space between buildings, where a man whose boots didn’t match was punishing a stray breeze block with a hammer, its head wrapped in tape which came halfway down the handle. This muffled the noise to a subdued doof! doof!, which might have been the point. More likely, the tape was to keep the head from flying off. ‘He’s making Wall,’ said Otis. ‘It looks like he’s smashing one up.’ ‘Yes, but when he’s broken it into bits, he’ll sell the chunks to tourists.’ His voice became comic: roll up, roll up. ‘Get your genuine bits of Berlin Wall. Pieces of history, buy them
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