There is nothing to be seen of the person herself

April 26 2016

        Choking dreams again, dreams involving cats and briars. Strange.

        And then the melody from the telephone.

        Just undress, take a shower. The hair is so short now, so short that it is almost dry after a short towelling. Rosa did a good and most thorough job. It will take a few months, then the hair will grow back. Perhaps at some stage it will not, but now it still does.

        Find fresh underwear in the dresser, and the mobile 'phone.' forget to take the pill again, this is getting to be a bad habit. Psychotic behaviour could be the result.

        The cat is quiet today it prefers to stay in the warm flat.. The morning is wet, miserable. 

Out on the street.

A young woman approaches, dressed in a dark jacket and shiny tight black trousers, almost stockings. Both move to their left, there is just enough space beside the fence that is securing the building site.

        There is a wind gusting, a drizzle of rain and a strong wind around the church, it is bad weather this morning.

A stock of waste cartons belonging to the discount bakery have all been blown over, and are now lieing wet and bedraggled all over the cobbles. Tuesday is the day for the rubbish collection.

        At least it is dry in the bus shelter, Dolores is huddled in her scarves, the bog cotton man arrives, huddled in his anorak.

        And as the driver is being paid, a fifty cent coin falls to the floor of the bus.

        Smoking happily, and entirely unconcerned by the weather, the short sleeved, pig tailed smoker gives a cheerful greeting from the smokers space in the centre at the station forecourt.

The slow girl with the Basedow eyes is on service in the cafe, she is getting faster as time goes on.

Weightlifters and bodybuilders are explaining the advantages of some compact body building device on the television in the waiting room. It is good that the sound is off, it is possible to ignore the drivel just by looking away.

Start these notes standing at one of those high tables known as' bistro' tables here. Make notes untill six in the morning, hear the small train from Rosenheim come into the station, and leave for the platform, platform No 6, struggling amid an oncoming stream of people who have just left that train.

Climb the granite stairs, following a pair of legs in black tights topped by a black anorak, the fur-rimmed hood of the anorak up, feet clad in short shafted high heeled boots.

There is nothing to be seen of the person herself.