chained waking fits, chained to each other, chain gang of waking fits, prisoners imprisoning -finalized by to the alarm clock, the sound signaling the day´s fit,the one lasting all day.Get up and shower. The newly fitted shower head is a demonstration of how simple luxury can be. Back in the bedroom, find the clothes and the bag, put on the shoes and the glasses, check that all is there.
The lane is spattered with freezing rain, leaving dark spots on the cobbles. It is black, fully dark but for the post-Dickensian street lamps.
at the bus stop, the rain is joined by the wind. Dolores arrives, sits down. In five minutes the bus is there. On board the brightly-lit bus it becomes visible that Dolores coat is not black. It is mock jaguar fur. Maybe she likes cats.
And outside the station the maker with the pig-tail is under the station porch. In his short-sleeved shirt, despite the cold and the wind. Coffee at Yormas, and start this blogpost. It is the same, the people changing slowly, sometimes new ones, but the old ones always there. The same as last year.
Hedgehog, Mustachio. The Italian with his croissant. The mosaic maker. She had a late night last night, apparently. People from the Trades Union are pre handing out leaflets,which they take from red bags. Cloth bags.
The train is late today.
And full.
The first Monday after the christeners holidays.
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