'Not a thing 'of enjoyment, a sounding alarm dock, beeping, creates panic. Shut it up before it wakes the house, the neighbours. Wrong button, it will start again in five minutes. Take it to the bathroom, to the shower. It rings again, step out , silence it. Find clothes, get dressed leave for the street, dry cold morning, go past the blue building site tarpaulins. The market stands are being set up for the mornings market. Long trucks, sausage salesmen, fish people from Bremen, local mulled wine makers. The Christmas season has begun. Plastic bicycle tail light lying on the cobbles where it must have fallen after being shaken loose by the vibrations.
A man hurries past carrying a suitcase, on a nervous look on his face as he makes progress up the road. He is wearing a tan raincoat and is carrying, not wheeling, an old-fashioned. suitcase of the name colour.. Short haired man.
shop people pass in the other direction, heading for town, for their employment. Todays bus driver has fair hair down to her shoulders, is efficient, and drives well fast and gently, all the way to the Station, Stadtpark, 'Hofangerweg, all the five stations the bus passes announced by prerecorded message on the loud speakers.
Pigtailed smoker gesticulates wildly in an animated conversation with that colourful woman, both smoking in front of the station. As always, just-outside the designated smoking area. These are rebellious people, non-conformists. Well, maybe half-non-conformists. Anastasia has her hair undone today, unsmiling team leader, directing her shaven-headed colleague around, he seems still to be in training. She is faster that he is, he is straining to keep up and to do everything correctly. She has her hair in a ponytail today.
Today is a discount stamp day, all the stamps are on the card. No paying money. Goody.
¡Moustachio! and Hedgehog, longhaired blackbag girl and mosaic maker all there, all talking, chats and jokes.
Italien gent at the table tears open his bag and eats his croissant in a gobbling fashion, head lowered over the table, spraying crumbs.
The Rosenheim train comes in .
Platform No.6 is full of fridays travellers.
On the train: One man writing notes in blue ink.
A man hurries past carrying a suitcase, on a nervous look on his face as he makes progress up the road. He is wearing a tan raincoat and is carrying, not wheeling, an old-fashioned. suitcase of the name colour.. Short haired man.
Sweating
He must have walked those two kilometers from the bus stop to the railway station.
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