Sound of bells, half past bells, three quarter past bells , seven o´clock bells. Eleven bells, four for the hour, seven to say which hour. That is it, get up bathroom.
Back to bed for a little while, and then get up, get dressed, go to the sitting room and look out of the window. No rubbish collection today, unless every single neighbour has forgotten today. Well, if not today then tomorrow.
Pet the cat, it purrs. They are such comfort-loving animals. Rolls on its back, tummy scratch.
Purr.
Clothes on, find the wallet and then the shoes. leave the house, and walk down the town on this foggy day. Go to Mareis bakery, all are dressed as if the weather was cold, but it is not. Six brezn and three small rolls encrusted with sun flower seeds.
Martin´s church spire is lost in the fog, there are few people on the street. A dumpster with orange lights flashing collects biological waste from the restaurants. It has a promise written on its side saying that this waste will be turned into electricity. There is the sound of distant heavy plant, digging the holes in the road for communal heating systems.
There is no sense of hurry, not like earlier in the morning, when all the commuters are on their way. It seems earlier at eight than at six, almost peaceful, apart from the workers noise.
Return , and place the rolls on the table for breakfast later. The cat inspects the bread rolls, and in a most unfeline way attempts to eat on. Cats do not normally eat bread, but this little female feline will give anything a tray that her humans eat.
Then she manouveres herself to the open window to observe the progress of the day as shown by the goings-on in the street

And now the fog has lifted and the sun come out.