Downstairs. Door now oiled, lock tightened .Silent. Desqueaked. Functions. One hundred yards through the old sleeping town. The whitehaired smoker passes, leaving a cloud. Guten morgen .
The early morning lady is there.
Now those busdriven one point seven kilometres to the station. Wishing the man with the ponytail and the big grin smoking defiantly outside the smokers square good morning too. Yorma's, one girl deals with everyone quickly. Some make it work. Get a leftover Nicolaus from Friday.
Fake Omega not keeping time. Stupid Fake. So much for that.
Train in, find seat. Silence in the train, nobody talking today. Good for a change, every squeak and clatter of the machinery is clearly to be heard. Moosburg, suddenly the train fills with seat-searchers . Paperreaders. Earphonedisentanglers. Telephone scrutinizers. Rolls on past Langenbach, past Marzling towards Freising. The local train with the white lady will be there, she speaking maybe of the latest delays in the train services.
Tin Tuss is back, and she is whistling and hissing to herself. Here's in the hope of an early departure. But for now she is a steady hiss in the right of the cerebral hemisphere. Train rolls into the station. Says the usual recorded announcement. Twice.
Surprise.
No white lady today. Local Esban dead on time.
This is disorientating.
"pulling get out on the right please"
There is so much free space today, are people on holidays? Women speak of their nights nonevents well punctuated with OMG'S and suchlike.
"Neufahrn, leave on the left"
the train rolls in slowly to fuse with the train from the airport. Slowly, a a bit faster, then brake hard and BANG. Coupled, door open.
Out.
Bus.
Buy weeks ticket.
Give the driver the Nicholas.
Read.
Garching
Room 2055
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