Head is solid, it feels solid. Solid like a brick. Or a rock. Sunlight pouring onto the upper altane balcony, the old wood reflecting back the morning sunlight as a reddish glow, especially when compared to the blue grey of the shadows. Stand up, go to the bathroom. When done, take the tooth brush, the electrical one, and go over the teeth carefully.
On returning to the bedroom, sit down on the bed beside the strangely silent cat, give its head a few pats. A patted cat, so as to speak. Then a patted purring cat, as it sits errect, stretches it's back and jumps up onto the window sill.
Look out into the yard with the cat, there are the hops growing up the wires that were made ready for them, the wires with the dead stalks of last years hops still twisted around them. They may grow higher this year, it is the third year since they where planted, their roots must be well established by now.
Put on clothes for the day, everything but socks and shoes.
Think of a morning coffee, go to the kitchen and start the grinder, that same grinder bought thirty years ago in the black Hertie tower in Munich, the tower now demolished, the machine as good as ever.
Fetch the computer, and place it on the sitting room table, the little grey flat thing, with the apple on its reverse side.
The coffee is made, the machine needs a new seal,it can no longer get up sufficien pressure, and ... well it leaks coffee all over the cooker
Coffee is made, the son is talking to his friends on the computer, chatting about games and things that they have done, and that they are about to do. Singing and enjoying themselves, the friend a non-corporal voice from the machine.
The day is lovely, the throat is sore, the back aches and the coffee is bitter.
And there are so many things to do, the weekend will never be long enough.
On returning to the bedroom, sit down on the bed beside the strangely silent cat, give its head a few pats. A patted cat, so as to speak. Then a patted purring cat, as it sits errect, stretches it's back and jumps up onto the window sill.
Look out into the yard with the cat, there are the hops growing up the wires that were made ready for them, the wires with the dead stalks of last years hops still twisted around them. They may grow higher this year, it is the third year since they where planted, their roots must be well established by now.
Put on clothes for the day, everything but socks and shoes.
Think of a morning coffee, go to the kitchen and start the grinder, that same grinder bought thirty years ago in the black Hertie tower in Munich, the tower now demolished, the machine as good as ever.
Fetch the computer, and place it on the sitting room table, the little grey flat thing, with the apple on its reverse side.
The coffee is made, the machine needs a new seal,it can no longer get up sufficien pressure, and ... well it leaks coffee all over the cooker
Coffee is made, the son is talking to his friends on the computer, chatting about games and things that they have done, and that they are about to do. Singing and enjoying themselves, the friend a non-corporal voice from the machine.
The day is lovely, the throat is sore, the back aches and the coffee is bitter.
And there are so many things to do, the weekend will never be long enough.
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