2016
tn the dark at this morning, there is a sudden sense of Time.
It is time to get up and to move. So sit up and look at the clock, press
the illumination button. It shows the number fifty-six in large
digital letters made up of sections of light emitting die ode.
Nonsense.
That is not a time, it is a demonstration of technical
failure. It could be any time at all, the radio reciever has
failed to make contact with the time transmitter.
-getup, go to the orchid, look at the watch, it is six in the morning. No, it is five to five. Everything is oK, awakening was automatic, it took place without the alarm clock. Brush the teeth, wash the face, return to the bedroom. stroke the purring cat. Things are different today. Put on the clothes and gather up the bag in the bedroom.. Find all of the things needed for the day- The small bear printed in plastic by a friendly American at yesterday's trade show is in the pocket, a small orange hear.
Feed the cat, she is strangely nervous today, and leave the house. The streets are dry, and largely free of snow, even yesterdays snow has mostly gone. The forecast snowstorm did not take place. There is a small salt-scattering snowplough speeding through the street, orange beacons ablaze. It was ordered for the snow that did not come, and is now searching in its frustration. The salt that it is scatting is an unnecessary duress for the environment, a salty assault on the combined street drainage and sewage system in this town. There is Dolores at the bus. stop. Good Morning. She bows today. Then two men, one with long white hair, and one with a dog equipped with a dog jacket and dog boots, all against the cold. Subside into a daze after the bus has been boarded , a daze until the station is reached.
And there is Big B. of Yorma, struggling to deal with the crowds of people, maybe twenty. Go to the self service counter and get a cup, a paper cup, of coffee, pay, and join Moustachio! and Hedgehog in the stand up cafe. They are both dour today, subdued. People come in, exchange greetings, there are many people under way today. More than usual, perhaps this is on account of the weather, or the forecast of the same. Train is late, it is full, and it is filled even further from the crowds on the platform. It is madness, what is going on, but it is all different today. Stand in the train writing these notes. These notes on paper, to be placed in an invisible space for the world to peer at through small windows
-getup, go to the orchid, look at the watch, it is six in the morning. No, it is five to five. Everything is oK, awakening was automatic, it took place without the alarm clock. Brush the teeth, wash the face, return to the bedroom. stroke the purring cat. Things are different today. Put on the clothes and gather up the bag in the bedroom.. Find all of the things needed for the day- The small bear printed in plastic by a friendly American at yesterday's trade show is in the pocket, a small orange hear.
Feed the cat, she is strangely nervous today, and leave the house. The streets are dry, and largely free of snow, even yesterdays snow has mostly gone. The forecast snowstorm did not take place. There is a small salt-scattering snowplough speeding through the street, orange beacons ablaze. It was ordered for the snow that did not come, and is now searching in its frustration. The salt that it is scatting is an unnecessary duress for the environment, a salty assault on the combined street drainage and sewage system in this town. There is Dolores at the bus. stop. Good Morning. She bows today. Then two men, one with long white hair, and one with a dog equipped with a dog jacket and dog boots, all against the cold. Subside into a daze after the bus has been boarded , a daze until the station is reached.
And there is Big B. of Yorma, struggling to deal with the crowds of people, maybe twenty. Go to the self service counter and get a cup, a paper cup, of coffee, pay, and join Moustachio! and Hedgehog in the stand up cafe. They are both dour today, subdued. People come in, exchange greetings, there are many people under way today. More than usual, perhaps this is on account of the weather, or the forecast of the same. Train is late, it is full, and it is filled even further from the crowds on the platform. It is madness, what is going on, but it is all different today. Stand in the train writing these notes. These notes on paper, to be placed in an invisible space for the world to peer at through small windows
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