27.6.2014
greying dawn, change from dark to light. Turn on the light, find these tablets, take one.
Drink.
stumble upon the clothes needed for the day, go upstairs, collect last nights work and leave the house.
There is a pink cloud on the pale blue sky behind the spire of saint Martins. The main road is being converted into a cultural market, complete with fish salesmen from Hamburg and vendors of Oriental and Asian produce. A noisy weekend in preparation.
No good mornings today, seagulls over the river. Abmght and lovely morning, early joggers running in time over the bridge at the power station. The clock of Christ church glows in its mettallec way, four forty two. The Bus, its driver and the passengers with no small change.
The cafe is in full chaos today, as a young man talking too much is behind the counter. Incompetent, and dotty. They have left the doors to the cafe locked, it is uncomfortable and stuffy. No detriment to the regulars, and on Monday, everything will be as used usually. Train, timely, crush getting in, seats plenty once insigd. Black haired chatterbox one seat ahead, lecturing in. a nasal, north German engineers voice.
Talking opiniated drivel, informing his-partner of the problems of the world and his workplace. Change the seat, hear no more.
Marbury committers flood the train, finding seats. discussing their problems. No joy in the morning, just the insult of disturbed sleep and unconsumed and undigested breakfasts, the reading of papers, the perusal of notes.... People warming up to prepare for the days use and abuse. A company of travellers, bundled together by neccessity, to split apart again to go about their various businesses at their varied destinations.
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