day one week thirty nine two thousand and fifteen

13 April aois

End of the mornings sleep, the old beep of the alarm clock silenced, the breathing machine stopped.

Light on, the wall led in flickering now, maybe a poor connection.

Get up, bathroom, turn on the shower.

Hot water, wake up, wash head.

The wet shave yesterday has  held longer, there is no need today

Back to the bedroom, raid the wardrobe for fresh clothing. find the watch, the telephone, the reading kindle tablet, the flows cetin tablet, the nose antibiotic tablet....

and the glasses, and this notebook. All complete.

and out, into the dark of the morning. It is dark since the docks were set back.. Walk past the church, and out through the town gate, past Dolores in the bus stops shelter,

Guten morgen

 stand beside the river bridge and watch the half moon over saint Martins church. The two Italian women pass, talking fast, gesticulating wildly, widely. The one is older and thin in her black tights, the other one in tight blue jeans, well packed. She is no plump, her backside wde so that her knees are pressed together. She has a daggering walk, sober, knockkneed.

all this does not stop her talking, all the time, as she and her colleague wander through the city gate are disappear into the distance,

        Dolores gets on the bus, the bus driver gets his change.

        The smokers square. before the station’s stairs is bare, is void.

It is still holiday time for some..

Anastasia, her usual pretty self,-pretty efficient. 's miles a greeting, after two weeks.

Makes going to work worth while.

Drinking coffee from a paper cup, see hedgehog and moustachio talking, over their heads the offering of the silent television with that-really angelic- pretty-moderator introducing football. she all wideangle distorted on the edge of the screen. All of yesterdays best fouls and scores, nicely described in silence with a raised eyebrow, a cocked shoulder, carefully opening gestures with hands, wobble of the hips and thrust of the shoulder.

Professional Moderator and good looker on that silent YORMAS television screen.

There are-dour faced workmen initiating their day, Their morning coffee and a-a-roll. Solemn faced Anastasia smiles. So do they. Nice day, for a Monday.

On the way down the stairs, look down, see feet and granite.

look up, straight into the eyes of a young woman who has paused in the descent of the stairs to look over her shoulder.

A moment of widening eyes, parted mouth, swirling black hair

Fantastic.

Fantastic.

Toss of the head and black hair ÷ Walks down the Funnel with her shapeless-beige boots, her black tights and off- white lace like off the shoulder top .

Yes, up the stairs to the platform, where the dawn is lightening the sky.

Sunrise soon,  six oh eight train.