3-42 morning notes

7.5.2074

Darkness in the morning as the anti soporific alamclat puts an end to all that. Toothbrush and shower, forget to shave. Dry the floor, took out of the window, Rain Today, overcast. Take that light trench, so many years old now.

The cat is fed now, down the stairs. Door not locked, a serious mistake

The streetss are depressingly grey. Damp and steamy. An ugly grey day. The smokers have gone to the shelter of the station awning. Their designated place is subject of dissent, and wet.

Serving girl at yorwa's cafe knows what is to be done, Coffee and pretzel and the same people in the cafe as every day. The day begins like clockwork, like an interweaving set of wheels, maybe too like parallel running time-pieces-keeping time faithfully in their dream of independence. Maybe mother and daughter clocks too, and the odd slave timepiece left over from older days. The mosaic maker turns up, her usual cheerful self. The train is delayed, the coffee gone and the cup disposed of before its appearance hinder the bridge in the distance. Some messy person has left a paper tray full of amorphous ketchup, the remains of a bockwurst or curlywurst, on the railing to the stairwell. Disgusting, and it is not even far to a waste bin. People in big hurry at stations. Trample and shove as the train comes in, all fight' to be onboard first. Find a seat, with a table-The passenger opposite powders her nose, takes her tablet and falls asleep. sitting bolt upright. The luck of the day, the Moosbug garlic and salami crew are elsewhere.'

Even this day gets lighter as the morning progresses.