Sunday morning early, in the middle of the month. In the middle of town, yet there is only the isolated rumble of cars passing in the distance, on other streets. And the occasional slam of a door. The eyes will not resolve this text even as it is written by the hands on the keyboard under the screen. It would be more pleasant if there were no car tyres at all rumbling over the cobbles.
A garage door opens up on the opposite side of the alley, electrical operation, and a man of the church wheels his bicycle out, mounts it, and pedals off down the street. The garage gates slam to automatically behind him, as he is already one-quarter of the way down the street. Another man, dressed in stylish running clothes, wearing a hoodie in this weather, leaves the next door building and jogs off in the direction of the church. Going for a run, it is important for him to be seen to be running. He is very style conscious, obviously.
And yet another man, dragging a small bicycle trailer behind him, leaves a building on the right. He wheels the trailer down to another house, turns the machinearound and carefully puts on wheel on the pedestrian path and one on the pavement. He then goes to get his bicycle.
Later, as the church bells ring for seven, the sound of his trailer receeds up the street.
Now it is time for coffee, now at seven eighteen.
A garage door opens up on the opposite side of the alley, electrical operation, and a man of the church wheels his bicycle out, mounts it, and pedals off down the street. The garage gates slam to automatically behind him, as he is already one-quarter of the way down the street. Another man, dressed in stylish running clothes, wearing a hoodie in this weather, leaves the next door building and jogs off in the direction of the church. Going for a run, it is important for him to be seen to be running. He is very style conscious, obviously.
And yet another man, dragging a small bicycle trailer behind him, leaves a building on the right. He wheels the trailer down to another house, turns the machinearound and carefully puts on wheel on the pedestrian path and one on the pavement. He then goes to get his bicycle.
Later, as the church bells ring for seven, the sound of his trailer receeds up the street.
Now it is time for coffee, now at seven eighteen.
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