day four, year two week seven

'4.9.2014

Up, five, tablet, shower. Just a string of words, no verb. The tinnitus has gone, it has changed. The Earwhistle has become silent.

Interesting. Clothes on, the mustard shirt again, and the red laced shoes.

There is one person at the bus stop, she is looking at her mobile telephone. The three shop workers pass, he says good morning, the others look askance.

The smoker with the hair outside the square. "Mogen". "mong"

greetings.

Mexican waitress at the cafe. She is slow, but will get faster. She speaks German, with just a slight accent.

Moustachio!, Hedgehog, the 'woman in the black anorak. They sit around their table; the black haired girl arrives with her handbag.

A man comes looking for change. Change of a fifty. Nobody can help. The man at the cafe refuses. Says that he may not. Maybe he just does not have the honesty to say that he does not want to.

The train is punctual, and  the sky is brightening as we reach the chemicals plant..

Later dawn in oosbury station, with its hundreds of bicycles in the multi-storey parking complex.

Today is not the day of the despondent correspondent. 

Earwhistler tin HissyTUS's back

shit