26 January 2016
The cat is back, the cat is back since yesterday. It purrs away, beside the bed, a not unhappy cat. Since it's return yesterday morning it has been alternately sleeping and purring.
* 'I do like to be", that melody of the sea, sounds from the telephone, putting an end to a situation of somewhere between sleep and conscious thought, and lets the actions commence that will start the day.
Gather the clothing, put on walking boots today. The salt on the pavements is bad for other shoes. Pat the cat, pet the petite on the head. Parr.
Leave the house,the streets are wet and slippery today. There is a light on in one of the windows on the third floor in one houses at the church square. There is a jacket hanging out to air in the window, up there.
Around the bend, past the builder's hoarding enclosing the Douglas perfume shop, miss de illuminated window of a butcher's, advertising his excellent Veal. The proprietor of the discount bakers store is sitting in The window of his shop drinking coffee, talking to one of his employees.
The man with the white fluffy hair is at the bus stop,smoking his early morning cigarette as he waits. Dolores is there, cheerful , wishes a good morning. And The bus arrives, and the driver accepts his coins.Apparently he has forgotten to open the rearward door on his bus, a man comes forward and asks if he may now leave the bus by the front door. That is sarcasm for you! At the next stop, the Christos Kirsch, an inebriated pair of male party goers board the bus. Their voices are very loud, they shout at each other. The one is drinking a coffin coffein drink, an energy drink. At the next stop the distracted driver fails to halt the bus, and the persons wishing to leave the bus shout in dismay. The driver halts the bus between two stops, lets the people out, putting the blame for the mishap on them, claiming that they had pressed the request button too late. A man unwilling to admit his own mistake, it was obvious that he had overlooked the regular bus stop.
Crossing the station plaza see all the smokers congregated under the porch in front of the station's entrance. The wet smokers square is deserted.Anastasia makes the coffee, cheerful as almost always, takes the money, waving the note in the air befor putting it into the till. Why do they do that?
Big. B. is at the buttering machine, making comments on the state of the world. Moustachio? is listening, Hedgehogs is grinning.
Tennis from Melbourne dominates the television program today, men chasing balls with rackets in their hands. A carefully placed camera, ensuring that the tennis court is perfectly centred and the name of the venue written thereon perfectly parallel with the bottom of the screen.
And at six the small diesel train from Rosenheim comes into the station, disgorging its passengers allover the platform.
It is Time. Time to leave for the platform, to board the train from Passau, the one that will reach Munich in an hours time.
Sent from my iPhone
The cat is back, the cat is back since yesterday. It purrs away, beside the bed, a not unhappy cat. Since it's return yesterday morning it has been alternately sleeping and purring.
* 'I do like to be", that melody of the sea, sounds from the telephone, putting an end to a situation of somewhere between sleep and conscious thought, and lets the actions commence that will start the day.
Gather the clothing, put on walking boots today. The salt on the pavements is bad for other shoes. Pat the cat, pet the petite on the head. Parr.
Leave the house,the streets are wet and slippery today. There is a light on in one of the windows on the third floor in one houses at the church square. There is a jacket hanging out to air in the window, up there.
Around the bend, past the builder's hoarding enclosing the Douglas perfume shop, miss de illuminated window of a butcher's, advertising his excellent Veal. The proprietor of the discount bakers store is sitting in The window of his shop drinking coffee, talking to one of his employees.
The man with the white fluffy hair is at the bus stop,smoking his early morning cigarette as he waits. Dolores is there, cheerful , wishes a good morning. And The bus arrives, and the driver accepts his coins.Apparently he has forgotten to open the rearward door on his bus, a man comes forward and asks if he may now leave the bus by the front door. That is sarcasm for you! At the next stop, the Christos Kirsch, an inebriated pair of male party goers board the bus. Their voices are very loud, they shout at each other. The one is drinking a coffin coffein drink, an energy drink. At the next stop the distracted driver fails to halt the bus, and the persons wishing to leave the bus shout in dismay. The driver halts the bus between two stops, lets the people out, putting the blame for the mishap on them, claiming that they had pressed the request button too late. A man unwilling to admit his own mistake, it was obvious that he had overlooked the regular bus stop.
Crossing the station plaza see all the smokers congregated under the porch in front of the station's entrance. The wet smokers square is deserted.Anastasia makes the coffee, cheerful as almost always, takes the money, waving the note in the air befor putting it into the till. Why do they do that?
Big. B. is at the buttering machine, making comments on the state of the world. Moustachio? is listening, Hedgehogs is grinning.
Tennis from Melbourne dominates the television program today, men chasing balls with rackets in their hands. A carefully placed camera, ensuring that the tennis court is perfectly centred and the name of the venue written thereon perfectly parallel with the bottom of the screen.
And at six the small diesel train from Rosenheim comes into the station, disgorging its passengers allover the platform.
It is Time. Time to leave for the platform, to board the train from Passau, the one that will reach Munich in an hours time.
Sent from my iPhone
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