1st of February, awake too early, take the mobile phone into the bathroom, to be prepared when the alarm goes off. As the water is pouring from the shower head, and after the teeth have been brushed the seaside melody, accompanied by a frustrated buzz sounds. Turn it off, shower, turn that off too, dry the wet body, till it is just dry.
Traverse the cold single glazed corridor, listen to the rain pouring from the sky, splashing against the concrete of the yard, dripping from the eaves.. A wet day. The cat is up, going about cat business, a morning greeting. The wife is up, silent. The bathroom, occupied. Early, seventeen past five.. All is well, pick fresh clothing from the wardrobe. gather all the bits and bots into the black bag, go down the stairs. The cat follows, shyly. It's farewell from the bad isolation, a forlorn look, sitting onthe cold concrete flags.
The street, the alley, is soaked with the rain.The rain is pouring out of a wind still sky, pouring out at the dark, making the cobbles glisten. The coat of the jacket, sold as water resistant, surrenders all resistance and is soaked in seconds.
A truck is backing third down the street, its driver expects no pedestrians at this hour. He brakes startled suddenly as eye contact is established. The man is awake now.
Mushroom-like, Dolores on the shining street holding an umbrella to keep her fur dry, to stop the rain filling her Leopardskin print hand-bag..
Water is dripping from the ailing cieling of the bus's cabin, soaked seats. At the station tell the driver. He will not be able to do much about it either. The bus is just not waterproof.
Drag the feet on the mats laid out in the station foyer, laid out to absorb some of the water carried in on the people's feet.
The new girl at Yormer's serves. the coffee quickly, Anastasia checks, she is keeping an eye on her. That is all. The cafes television is showing advertisement for mixers. A grey haired man and a blonde woman. The man appears to be explaining the technology, the woman is gaping in amazement and applauding. It is good that the sound is off. That kind of advertising nonsense would be hard to take at this early measly hour, forcing itself on the conscious mind as sounds do. It is hard to bear away from a disturbing sound, harder than looking away from a disturbing sight.
The train boarded, and Moosburg left behind. And it is not light outside. Not yet, the dark rain clouds have covered the sky and darkened the dawn out of existence.
Traverse the cold single glazed corridor, listen to the rain pouring from the sky, splashing against the concrete of the yard, dripping from the eaves.. A wet day. The cat is up, going about cat business, a morning greeting. The wife is up, silent. The bathroom, occupied. Early, seventeen past five.. All is well, pick fresh clothing from the wardrobe. gather all the bits and bots into the black bag, go down the stairs. The cat follows, shyly. It's farewell from the bad isolation, a forlorn look, sitting onthe cold concrete flags.
The street, the alley, is soaked with the rain.The rain is pouring out of a wind still sky, pouring out at the dark, making the cobbles glisten. The coat of the jacket, sold as water resistant, surrenders all resistance and is soaked in seconds.
A truck is backing third down the street, its driver expects no pedestrians at this hour. He brakes startled suddenly as eye contact is established. The man is awake now.
Mushroom-like, Dolores on the shining street holding an umbrella to keep her fur dry, to stop the rain filling her Leopardskin print hand-bag..
Water is dripping from the ailing cieling of the bus's cabin, soaked seats. At the station tell the driver. He will not be able to do much about it either. The bus is just not waterproof.
Drag the feet on the mats laid out in the station foyer, laid out to absorb some of the water carried in on the people's feet.
The new girl at Yormer's serves. the coffee quickly, Anastasia checks, she is keeping an eye on her. That is all. The cafes television is showing advertisement for mixers. A grey haired man and a blonde woman. The man appears to be explaining the technology, the woman is gaping in amazement and applauding. It is good that the sound is off. That kind of advertising nonsense would be hard to take at this early measly hour, forcing itself on the conscious mind as sounds do. It is hard to bear away from a disturbing sound, harder than looking away from a disturbing sight.
The train boarded, and Moosburg left behind. And it is not light outside. Not yet, the dark rain clouds have covered the sky and darkened the dawn out of existence.
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