lastday this week

12 June 15

struggle with the devices of the night, and violence in silence.

Stand up for the day, and in the "bathroom take the daily shower, wash the teeth, and fush the hair. Every day the same story, finding socks, shirts and pants.

The kitten, now named Miriam, is no where to be seen or heard. An intent silent cat.

Silence in the alley, too. The sun is out, and illuminates, every brick of the Martin's church in low-angled orange-tinted morning light. A nice shot at 'dawn. All the streets are deserted, clear of people.

Then a cyclist, speeding by on the pedestrian path. Without hands on his handlebars, steering by arsehole.

Dolores is at the bus stop, she brightens up, becomes un-dolourful when she returns the mornings German greetings.

A woman is to be seen wearing a day-glo orange jacket and matching running shoes.. Across the flood-gates, and disappears behind the Island restaurant, only to reappear, running over the arched pedestrian bridge spanning the river to proceed towards the bus stop and the  town gate with its big arch. Her shoes can he heard, they make a" crunch crunch" round on the riverside walk's gravel, to be then replaced by a "slap slop rtap round on the pavement. She vanishes into the town, running through  the buildings. That is right, keep fit girl, you can do it!.

Exact change for Anastasia today., all we say is "gwten Morgen'! She has what looks like a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. It is not to be seen  clearly at all. Maybe it is just a disco stamp.

The cafe is empty today. Just so.

Empty.

Good morning to the sleepy-looking mosaic maker, as she climbs the stairs and walks down the platform to her usual place of boarding the train. She leaves in Munich City, and the exit to that station is at the head of the platform there.

Through a tight foggy landscape, damp with dew, the journey goes. And all shall pay their due to their employers, on this Friday.

To depart into the week's work…

Now like every day, leave the carriage, charge platforms, take a new train in Frei sing, the slow Esban. Walk down the-whole carriage, search for a neat.

The black haired, eyebrow- painted, black jacketed young lady opposite is speaking to her mobile 'phone. The conversation ended, she removes her jacket, revealing a black T.-shirt type  short skirt over black tights.

an elegant appearance, and a disastrous smell of garlic wafts other, the scent  must have had all night to permeate the peson then to exude from the skins pores.

Never go just by appearances.

By the time that this has been written the messages announcing the trains arrival in Neufahm are to be heard.

The journey is almost done. All that remains now is the bus ride across country to

Gar Chingq.

        Room 2055