The train is in, the snow is falling,

10Th February 2016
Deep sleep, awaken to the sound of the seaside melody
Fumble about trying to find the 'phone in the dark.
There are so many other things on the desk.
The cat, purring loudly, now awake too.
The animal is nocturnal.
Bathroom, shower, brush the teeth. They feel manky after the night's rest.
On returning to the bedroom the cat rubs its head against the bare legs.
and then, when all the clothing is on, a short rest is taken sitting on the bed.
The cat jumps onto the knees, a thing it never really had done ever before, sat there, purring.
The streets are wet, it is a soggy snow that is raining down, falling straight, dissolving almost at once upon hitting the ground.
The municipal sweepers are cleaning the streets using their blowing machines to clear the corners of waste left by yesterdays party.
Ash Wednesday today.
Dolores in the bus shelter, good morning
gut en Morgan.
A mighty lit truck approaches from the distance, and she gets up, thinking that this is the bus.
As it becomes apparent that she has erred, she smiles in embarrassment.
That is the first ever that a visible emotion is to be seen on her face.
When the real bus has come, and been boarded, and left again at the station, the snow has gained in solidity, each snowflake now larger.
The butterfly eyelashes, Anastasia pipes up, "coffee?" Literally "großer Kaffee?"
and then the eyelashes flutter away to the
next customer, and the next, to return
again when the paper mug is full, and a
short 'Tschuss", and that is the end at that
for the day.
There are two young Chinese in the space usually occupied by the man we name Hedge­hog.

He is thin, drinking water, and smiling
silently.
She is voluble, and does
not stop talking even when her mouth is full.
She is not as thin as the man, and seems to
have a lot to say.

In Chinese of course.

The train is in, the snow is falling,
more slowly now, in larger flakes