day three week eighteen two thousand and fourteen

19.11.2014

lack of sleep followed by the inability to awaken properly.

Pills cure strange things, have more effects than originally calculated with.

All  an incalculable risk. Alarm clock off, go for a shower. Shower head bursts, it is filled with limescale... Loud bang. Find clothes, take the last pair of socks, down the stairs, out the door, raining, martins bells. A man in blue sports clothing comes down the lane.

        Dolores walking to the bus stop, woolly hat and a leopardskim bag.. She is perhaps older and seems to have problems walking... A businesslike man with a winter coat and a suitcase turns up as well, all waiting for the has

The bus comes in, the businesslike man strides ahead, to be first on board, alpha type leader, just germanic. Dolores next, wildo last. Why hurry, a half- empty bus that has to wait four minutes anyway.

The pigtailed smoker is in front of the station, chatting with that close cropped, brightly-dressed, no longer entirely young woman under the station porch.

Both smoking, both sheltering from the rain. He says morgen, gets the standard 'reply. Crowds at yvma's, where did they come from today? Anastasia, a tiny bit red-eyed today, serving fast, running the show again. Coffee only. A man is to be observed, just come in, - doing what looks like a clowns courtship dance as he orders his things. Perhaps he does not know what professional courtesy and friendliness are. Leave everyone to their dreams, back-slapping joviality at this hour of the morning is strange.

Hedgehog and Moustachtio, talking earnestly under a silent television showing identity two footballers falling foul of each other, painfully. The one writhes in pain, as the other reaches his hand in vain, in support. Red and white, chess pieces, tactics.

The black dressed,-black haired-handbag girl arrives with her ikckety-clack herds, drags a stool across the cafe, and perches with her' handbag on her knees . chats to Hedgehog and ¡moustachio !

Train Time, up the other stairs for a change. The Train is in; empty, almost.

The stations are all past, dreamlike.

Freising