dawn

September 30,2076

it would have been so nice to continue sleeping, just resting in bed. No chance though, the eye-phone alarm plays that melody.

        get up, wash, shower.

Sleep would have been nicer.

thirty five minutes later

There is a lone man with an airline pilot's uniform wheeling his suitcases up the main street, perhaps he will be on the other side of the world by this evening.

The bus stop with all the characters from yesterday, another man is there as well... There are stars visible  over the shopping mall the plough, Orion's belt, his sword.

'It is a dark morning, there is no moon, and it will be some time yet until the sun rises.

The bus driver is being shown the peculiarities of the route by an older man, an older man of considerable overweight. There are several people onboard the bars with large bags, they will be Eating holidays now, long weekends. Monday is the day of German unity, a holiday.

At the railway station cafe, stand in line waiting for the paper mug of coffee. Everyone seems subdued today. The man called hedgehog is in his corner drinking from a paper cup.

He turns and leaves.

stand at the table trying to arrange the book and the pen,

 see that there has been afire in a hotel hospital in Bochum on the news ticker, part of the broken television set.

The head is bleary like the eyes , nothing functions; it is early. There we are! The Rosenheim train has arrived, o outside an platform one.

Time to move!

one hour later

go down the white tiled grubby corridor, and  and use the (granite) steps by the new lift. 

The train is just coming in now.

Two young men in leather trousers are at a table in the carriage. Drinking beer, in high spirits, on their way to the Oktoberfest.

Dawn at around six thirty.

and hear the girl behind the counter say "Alice? "

29th of september 2016

The cat is hiding today, the family is still asleep as on every day – sleep would be great, but there is just a necessity for work, for the earning of money to deal with the daily requirements of the family. Put on a pair of older shoes today, brown suede. The empty alley, with its shop window lights, the huge church looming in the dark. See nothing today, only the Marius bakery truck, moving at walking pace down the Theater street.-- Bog cotton man and Dolores at the bus stop, the teachermann shortly afterward.

All stand in a row silhouetted against the street lamps, and the headlights of the approaching traffic, and finally, the approaching bus.

In the bus, there is the black-skinned girl with the crimson hair, and the young girl sparsely dressed despite the colder weather.
At the cafe counter, order a large coffee, and hear the girl behind the counter say "Alice? "say yes, stand dreaming of Alice whilst the coffee dribbles out of the coffee maker- brown water into a yellow paper cup with blue type on it.

The man in line behind politely waits, there is an older man dreaming at the counter, he thinks.. there are politeness's in the rush of the morning's travel.

Take the paper cup and a plastic lid, and go to the small round high table, and start this account. And look at the television, this is showing intermittent pictures of  the horrific worldwide wars of seventy years ago.

The world has not learned how to behave, yet.

The television is faulty, or the receiver is damaged.

The picture is bad and breaking up constantly, sometimes it goes away entirely i sometimes it just shows the upper or lower part of the film, the remainder of the screen filled with slanted lines and white noise.

There is a man with three suitcases struggling down the steps, unaware of the hitching systems built into the bags, that would allow him to stack two on the trolley bag.

Oh well, for some the day starts with a struggle.

The Train that was boarded in Landshut arrives in thee sing Freising twenty five minutes later, passing through orange-lit villages, stopping at Moosburg, then grey stations whistling past in their sodium glow

and finally arriving in Freising.

"Please exit The train on the right."

disgrace

28 September 2096

Up early, and leave for the street. Walk past the brightly lit shopfront, it is empty but for those very bright LED-lamps. They illuminate the street all around the window more than the official street lamps do.

They have not been able to rent that shop for any length of time, perhaps the rent is too high,. Pass that pool of brightness, a monument to greed, and pass the stamp collectors shop too. It is run by a man called Engel, that is-Angel.

It is just a tiny bit later today, the woman in the discount

bakery is already hard at work arranging the furniture in her shop.

The bog cotton man, well-dressed, hair tied back, at a the bus stop smoking. Hello. Nod. Dolores; sitting in the shelter. Suter Morgen. Nod.

Relax and wait, look out over the river in the dark. There is a path along the top of the damm that blocks the sidestream of the river, allowing a small power plant to do it's thing.  

There is a coin telephone attached to the side of the bus shelter. This has a magenta-coloured light on top, as an advertisement for the Telekom company. The device appears to be still working, but is in a very dirty condition.
One very fat spider has spun its web before the pink plastic light, and is feeding on any flies that are attracted by this illumination. It is a good place for such a trap, and the spider is big and fat.

After the bus has arrived at the station, realise that there are very few people about. There are no smokers.
For a short while
in the café

the girl with the Indian looks has a break, just stands there, for an instant the tension and stress

fall from her face like a dropped veil.

and the television shows the horrific fantasys of muslim terrorists, in the name of their religion.
A disgrace to show this on the early morning television, children are up, and they will see this.
Whilst their parents are still asleep, or making breakfast. 

bin day today

                27 September 2016-

Search for the glasses, five thirty. They are on the table, where they had been left yesterday.
Calm down.
The cat is not in its usual place today.
Leave into the lamplit street, lock the door. There are rubbish bins on the pavement in front of every entrance today. It is bin day today      
The lamp light is dim, restricted to the area around the lamps themselves, dimming as the distance increases, dimming at a rate proportional to the square of the distance.

 Only distant lights make for even light displaying all in it's range more or less equally, and  that big light is over the horizon yet.

At the bus stop-Dolores nods her greeting from below a cloth coat, a warming coat, and now watch the pale reflector of the sunlight, crescent shaped now, over the town gate. The crescent has it's horns pointing away from the sun, the sun still below the horizon. It is so far away-the light on the moon and the light on the lit parts of the earth, all insignificant differences in intensity.

Under the lamplight a motor scooter driver approaches, on his tiny licence-free vehicle. It buzzes over the streets slowly, dim headlamp lighting the ground between the pools of light from the street lamps. His speed is constant and the light fallout dims between the lamps with the square of the distance.

Inversely, it will brighten at the same rate, 'the last few millimetres intolerably bright, an inferno of incandescent sodium vapour.

The bus arrives, a new driver. Pay for the short journey to the railway station, after being the last person to board. The bus has three passengers, two women and a man.

And there are no smokers at the station. 

shadow

Four ten in the morniing.
brush the teeth, remove the night's fuzzy feeling.
Take the grey apple to the dining room table.

One visitor in the night, left a trace
Four six in the morning.
Four minutes ago.
portugal

Sitting room is dark,
Sound of clocks, a small one runs without regularity.,
It needs to be cleaned.

the big one calls for children, or slaves, or daughters.
Depending on where you come from.

There is utter silence this morning,
just the cat in the hope of a feed.
She is a predator by nature,
Sleeping most of the time.

It is too early yet.
Today, a day for doctors.
monday.

furniture

hiss.
Sunday.
just listen to the hissing on the right hand side of the head,
A steady pressure.

and tired, why care?
Things will go on anyhow, somehow.
Eyes that can hardly see the sharp type of the computer.

There is nothing to describe today
and no wish to describe the sunday sun reflecting of the yellow house opposite to then illuminate the wooden room with all it's wood-brown furniture.

Abandoned in a corner

toc tac
every thirty seconds, that is the sound of  a French master clock, hanging in the kitchen. Telling the time, still sending signals to it`s slaves long gone. Or, as they say in other languages, it's children.

The cat rests on the bed, it refuses to get up. It just looks resentful, but then how is a human to know exactly what resentfulness is in a cat?
The bigger clock outside  starts a mechanism to allow the bells to toll eight times.

It is eight in the morning, and it is Saturday.

There are sounds in the street, the sounds from car exhausts, rumble of tyres over cobblestones.

Outside is a grey day, a flatly lit day. It is not warm, and it is not yet cold.
A cup of fresh coffee.

Enjoy the solitude here, the peace of it. Unlike the solitude of work, where there is no peace, an imprisonment for six years more.
Yet work is solitary too, entirely solitary and alone.
Abandoned in a corner
as opposed to the solitude and peace of the home.

Lucky man to have the choice.

Twenty tree

23 September, 2016

Terrible, alarms, noise. It is just getting up in the early

morning that is difficult. No shower Today, it is just too

unpleasant.

Find a fresh shirt in the wardrobe, and wait in

the corridor for the time to pass. And then the daily

walk through the sleeping town There is a car

driver who has decided to take a short cut through

the pedestrian area, now, in the morning, when

there are hardly any pedestrians.

Dolores and the bog cotton man are at the bus-

stop, waiting as every day. The Teaehemann armies,

and waits.

We all wait for a bus that does not come today.

Teachermonn takes a taxi.

Wait ten minutes longer than usual, and then the

next scheduled bus arrives. It will get to the station

just in time for the train, but there will be no time for a coffee,.

The bus follows a slightly circuitous route

stopping at the Hospital, which seems to be asleep as

well. That does not matter, and arrive at the railway station

 with two minutes to spare.

So what, the train is delayed anyway. so everything

is back to normal again. The train creeps down

the tracks, slowly, and couples with the waiting

carriages.

And-

it is friday today, a day that can be shortened.

At the usual table the usual space

As always.

22 Sept 2016

Early, before the alarm sounds, and wash, shave and

shower.

Find clothing on the shelf, and let the cat in from the

corridor.

So tired today.

The streets are dry, and on the way pass a taxi waiting

The streets are empty, otherwise

There are the usual people at the bus stop. The bog-cotton

man, Dolores, and then the Teachermamm. He is probably not a teacher at all, but some sort of civil servant or a municipal employee.

Pay the bus driver, sit down nearby that woman at the back of the bus with her makeup again- young woman with the Rasta hairdo is there. Then at the station, return the smokers greeting, and

climb the five granite steps to the railway stations

main entrance.

Walk through the hallway to the cafe,

buy a cüp of coffee, large, black. The indian

woman gives the change, and, whilst waiting for

The coffee to' he made, the girl from the bus, the one

with the dreadlocks hair, orders two pretzels and a gas lighter. she has a very sweet childish voice, and her lips are pierced with silver rings.

Take the coffee to a small round table.
At the usual

table the usual space
is occupied by two young men dressed for the October festivities in Munich.
They are wearing leather shorts and tartan -like shirts,

with enormously carefully groomed hair.
Leave for  platform six.
An announcement on the loudspeakers says that the train will be five minutes late

The Rosenhem train comes into the station, clattering over the tracks with its diesel motor roaring.
It is late.
Watch and wait.

After a while, the Rosenheim train leaves again,

rattling over it's tracks.

And when the Munich train does come in, it is much shorter than usual. There is a rush down the platform, chasing the train.

It is thursday, as good a day as any for things to

go wrong.

An announcement as the train finally moves out

informs that, due to an accident the previous night, half of the train had to remain in a town called Platting.
It was confiscated by the district attorney.

By the time the train passes Moosbary it is first light, and  the ticket collector turned announcer repeats his message,

and adds that further delays will he likely,  due

to defective level crossings en route.

This is a bad start for this Thursday.

out of doors, wherever they please

21 September 2016

Sleep so badly, then the sleep is deep.

And then the day has to start

Up, around the corner, to the shower. Refreshing. Do not

shave today, there is no time. No time to spend on things like that.

'The cat comes, it wants attention. Then, need to search for

the watch.
Oh, there is no time.

There it is, on the small cupboard beside the bed. Good.

The street, alleys between old houses. All renovated,

proud owners, now the rich live here again.

The bus stop, the man with the bog-cotton now tied back white hair

, Dolores. Good Morning.

Aboard the bus there is the one young woman at the

back of the bus who is putting on her makeup for the

day, and one young girl with rastafarian dreadlocks,

a very pale girl.

The bus lurches about as it drives along, arrives at the

station. There is the smoker with his pigtail, standing

on the edge of the yellow square marked on the

pavement with road - marking paint. That is the area reserved for cigarette smokers.. They are not permitted to enjoy their habit

elsewhere, but this is generally disregarded, and they

smoke out of doors wherever they please.

The indian girl is serving today, she is slow, but

friendly. Everyone gets their order, so all is well.

The girl with the Rastafarian locks, matted blonde

hair, is stirring her coffee, letting others wait

untill.-..

Then she sees that there are people waiting, and

moves over to the side of the stand with all the

sugary condiments.

Place a lid on the coffee and go to the usual place

at the table, the table small, tall and round. the broken television shows flickering pictures of

Islamic terrorists, all young men. Something has

happened again.                         Somewhere.

On the platform, the train rushes in, and just

keeps on moving. A man in livery explains that

this was the second part of the train, confusing today-

the first comes last.

There is no explanation for this...

Board the part of the Train that now comes into the

station at last.

As always.

no time

at one in the morning, awaken

at three in the morning, awaken




look at the telephone on it's lead beside the bed.

Loading.

It is three.




Ding.




Mail.




mal




bad.







Five.

"i do like to be beside the seaside"




turn it off.




Sleep. Wake. Showeer.




The same colour clothes as yesterday.

The streets are deserted today.




And dry.




The discount bakery has a tray of freshly made breakfast rolls in the window.




MMm

no time.




Dolores is at the bus stop, in the bus shelter.

Beside the rain-swollen river rushing raucously over the weir.







Teacherman comes, carefully dressed, dead on time.




All board the bus.

a big orange truck, a sweeping machine, slowly cleaning up the remains

19 Sept 2016

Hiss and whistle, really loud today.The noise from the telephone awakens, as it does every weak weekday. go to the bathroom, remember, showered last night before going to bed. No real need now, back to bed, wait for Martin's first bell.

DING

Find the clothing, in the drawers of the wardrobe, all in black Today. Look like a priest without a collar. Oh well.

See that the lashing from the trailer is still beside the door. Oh well.....

Down the damp alley, under a pitch black sky, on past the. renovated houses. There is a big orange truck, a sweeping machine, slowly cleaning up the remains of last Saturday and Sunday. All the festivities soaked in the rain..

At the bus stop the onetime bog cotton man waits. He has his hair all tied back neatly now, not waving about in the wind any more. He still smells strongly of cigarette smoke, that is a thing that probably will not change so much with the times. The teacherman turns up, dressed brightly. He and the bus both arrive at the same time, He gives the impression at having timed everything very carefully

At the station cafe, all is in a bustle, everyone hustling, ordering The order for a coffee goes through unspoken, the girl serving knows all her customers by now. She is the dark haired girl with the protruding eyes. There are so many more people here now than during the summer. The holiday season is over, the weather is getting colder.

Leave the cafe at the last minute, find the steps blocked by those coming from the Train. 

Finally On board the Train, see that there are hardly any seats left free now.

The trains are full in winter. The headache and the howl and hiss on the right hand side are louder today, are more blinding today. The doctor cannot say what is going on, but it is becoming a nuisance.

The train rushes over a landscape entirely dark now, spots of light showing houses, beams of tight showing cars and trucks otn the roads...

The people on the train are all sleeping, looking at Their telephones, or doing things with laptop computers.

Freising in the dark and the wet. 

sunday

the rain has stopped
residual drips from eaves and window ledges

two bells
no gurgles from the drain in the yard.
That is ist now
silence

And then the bells sound again
for the faithful, to church.


quiet
The son at his computer
rattling and building
who knows what
peace.

regardless

indignity on the mind, awaken early.
Indignity is not just for the overly dignified
those of little worth can be diminished too.
Weak people will stamp on insects to show that they too can destroy life.

Awaken early, three four five or somesuch.
Rain, a steady downpour, continuous, never ending all-soaking glorious downpour.
All the windows open, listen to the splashing downpour.
It goes on and on
relax.

Indignity of it!
work for the future, ignore the vile power struggles.




Still, today, now:
The head is filled with whistling steam
It is saturday,
there are private things to be done.

relax first, clear the mind

An empty mind - an enviable state.

And the rain outside sings regardless

stress

16 September 2016

Now, up. Alarm, seaside melody from that mobile telephone.

Sleep would be nice.

no no no help for it, take the nightclothes off, go to bathroom, turn the shower on, untill the water comes out warm wash, wash the hair, dry,

brush the teeth Find clothing in the bedroom, because of

the heat yesterday, yesterday's clothing is unusable, it is full of sweat. Perspiration to you!

The cat rushes around the corner, and butts its head against any available legs, chair legs, whatever, scratch the purring animal's poll.

Then leave the house. It is late, and the wind in the alley is making some ribbons hanging from the shop

window flutter.

At the bus stop, realise that the bus has just left. There is

nobody there. The next bus is due in eleven minutes,

according to the electronic timetable beside the bus

shelter. so weird, so wait.

A bus arrives, a fare is paid. The bus arrives at

the railway station just in time, so rush through the

station hallway, gogo straight to platform six, and

board the train just in time.

This is a day that will be huge stress, but,
It is

friday.

Daylight, worm light, dim light in the morning. There is

no help for it.

For next week

This is the week in which winter will come.

horrible, with tiredness and headache

15 september 2016

After listening to the bells ring in all the hours, the quarters

and the halves, four bells three bells, two bells, one

bell, since two in the morning, listen to the merry sound

of the melody on the mobile telephone..... go to the bathroom....

shower, dry, find clothes for the day, put them on, pat the cat, and off down the stairs into the dark alleyway.

A delivery track with its refrigerator running is standing

by the church, opposite a tent that has been set up

on pavement in preparation of the Landshut street entertainment festival.

Cross the main street, enter the theater street leading to

the bus stop by the river. The woman who works with

discount bakery approaches, good morning.

At the bus stop the bog cotton man, his hair ...Tied back,

says good morning with a nod.
Dolores ↳ there,

good morning. There is no change for the bus

driver. In the rear seats of the bus there are two

women, one with black skin and a strange, coloured

hair extender on her head, it looks like red writhing

knitting yarn, and the other its putting on face powder and

eye liner with the help of a small mirror.

say "good morning" to the smoker. He is the only

one standing at the ashtray, there are other smokers

standing at the entrance to the station, on the steps.

Today is horrible, with tiredness and headache. It

would he so nice and healthy to remain in bed.

The" YORMA" coffee in the station is bitter and bad,

a bad taste of cardboard from the paper cup.

Hedgehog is there, he chats with the cafe crew, and

they all make jokes and laugh.

ath

 Outside, there is a queue. at the ticket vending machines, people in bright clothes. The Rosenheim train

comes into the station, making it's characteristic diesel noise.

It is time to leave for the platform, time to wait

untill the train has completed it's coupling manouvres.

And to proceed of on the way to work.

do not use blunt razors

14 September 2016

The telephone was forgotten at work yesterday, so listen to the bells.

Four bells for the hour, Five for which hour.

It is five in the morning.. cut on the lip whilst shaving, 

Do Not Use Blunt Razors.

The upper lip bleeds profusely, find a small sticking plaster

The cat purrs for attention. Get dressed, and leave the house..

A man on an electrical bicycle, with small wheels, hums past on his way up the main street. He is fast, he is coughing, and he is very fat.

at the bus stop, there is the bog cotton man. His hair has now grown long enough to allow him to tie it back behind his head. Perhaps he is growing it long so that he may be able to take part in next year's pageant. In celebration of the middle ages...

Watch as a tiny dog with a tinny bark and with a red light on his collar chases the ducks who had been feeding on the town's lawns. The dog runs around yapping, and the ducks, literally, take flight.

See the bus approach out of the distance, come around the distant corner. The bog cotton man, Dolores and teacherman geto that spot where the bus customarily halts.

"Leave the bus at the railway station, there is a small group of five fine people discussing something in the smoker's square.They are very loud voiced. Nod to the pigtailed man, and then climp the steps and enter the railway station hall.

One large coffee, a small table, a silent television in showing a doucumentary about sunburn. 

There are more people' n the station now, the holiday season is over.

The Rosenheim Train is in, blocking the view over all the other platforms.

It is time to go, platform six.

At Moosburg, the train fills up, and the day has grown sufficiently bright to allow the details of the landscape to become visible by the time the train has made it to Freising. All of the colours are dark yet, sombre greens and browns.

A path lived with trees, and illuminated with yellow sodium lamps. 

smashed bottle

13. September 2016

A heavy mumble sounds through the open window-the

first aircraft flying in to Munich pass overhead, two of them.

It is half past four, then a quarter to five. Bells!

The alarm at five, the seaside melody from the mobile 'phone

get up out of bed, take the night clothes off, and go to the

bathroom-

shower.

Back to the bedroom, a charge of underwear, and a fresh

shirt.

And then sit down and wait for the five minutes to pass.

The cat comes, looking for attention. Put her on the knees, scratch her head.. Wait.

The alley is dark, the lanterns create pools of light around about their wall supports, it is all sombre.

There are waste bins out on the pavement, a huge pile of

cartons outside the clothing store.

Dolores is in the bus shelter, she is older and more

haggard than ever.

Good morning Dolores.

In front of the station somebody has smashed a beer bottle on the steps. There are shards of brown glass everywhere

There are men standing about, a few of them wobbling

slightly, due to the influence of the alcohol that they have

imbued and are now exburfing
 It is now a quarter to six in the morning.

The girl at Yormus $erves a coffee, she seems more

friendly today, perhaps because there is not so much to do.

And the man called hedgehog is at his place under the

broken television.

This  showing a film of what appears to be somebody dropping a car from a helicopter

A hiss of air brakes outside, from platform No1,

and the Rosenheim train arrives.

It is time to go to platform No 6 and to

get the train to Freising.

seven past six

A troubled dream and the stream of unconsciousness is interupted, broken. A man known as a child complains of the loss of his poor mother, died of advanced age after a long and troubled life, with many children and a husband whose physical faith was weak even though his mind was of the strongest.
A dream at at quarter to four.
turn of the alarm on the mobile gadget, so that the wife may sleep on.
go through the hallway in the dark, with the small machine.

This small grey machine.

check the news.
no news.

good.

Maybe only a dream of the inevitable.

There wil be no train today, no railway station.
A short drive in a blue machine, to work.

Late, as It will be necessary to stay late to take a group photo - of people of importance
Important.

portentous
potent people portentous.

all grinning like idiots
or not.


There is a pain in the right foot, a slithery feeling.

A small shard of broken glass, blood.
Get a paper towel from the kitchen and wipe the floor.

Later, listen to bells.
The cat is up, and is chasing an errant moth.

And there is the sound of a child`s laughter and chatter outside.
There are two women and a small child walking past outside, unusual for five in the morning.
The child has little red lights on her shoes, is wide awake and happy.

And all three move on up the road towards the park.

Martins bells, half past and then the hour.

Now it is seven past six

rest

Table with bialetti coffee machine, and a cake bought yesterday.
Sunday breakfast, the sons important weekly feature, a table with four plates and a platter, coffee pot and cups.

late in front of the television last night , saturday night entertaiinment with a bottle of wine,

no help for it, the head is stuffed with cotton wool where brain used to be and the ear on the right hears nothing but whistle.
Open the windows to the street wide, let the air and the sun in.


People outside, sunday walks, sunday occupation., sunday is a day of rest.


So hold .
and wait.


and then clear away the plates

and the coffee pot

September cool

Silent

Peace


Saturday morning early.

All sleep.
It is cool, clear and quiet.

In the course of the hour the traffic noise increases outside
sit at the table, yesterdays wine bottle is still there.

The cat mooches about, but it is quiet too..
Feline stretching, preening.
No more.

There is a seldom cobbleston rumble of a passing car outside,
otherwise just the sound of a woman working in the butchers shop at the end of the street.

It is September cool now, but the day will be hot before it ends.


Relax

girl with the bleached hair steers the bus

9 September 2016

Alarm music, the small telephone sounds.

five.

Wash, shave, new underwear, fresh shirt.

Ready for the day

Five twenty-five.

Put some cream on the spotty nose, to stop it flowering again. And wait.

The little cat us attentive, it wants attention:

Martin's bells, sound twice, it is half past five.

Leave the house, the cat rushes down The stairs... first. There are newspapers in the mailbox, stacks of advertising merit, selling everything from pyjamas to pre packed steaks.

On the corner of the alley there is a pot plant lying on the ground, it's pot smashed. It is a large, ornamental plant, somebody probably removed' it in a fit of high spirits from the space before the bank and left the pot in the middle of the road. The next car passing may have hit it.

A stupid business..

Passing The Town gates, there is a strong smell of beer and there are open bottles of the stuff standing around abandoned.

Teachemamn passes on a bicycle. He is wearing dark shorts and dark shirt today. He puts his bicycle into the bicycle stand at the stop, and goes to the bus shelter. The fluffy haired bag cotton man is there as well, waiting.

The young bus driver, the girl with the bleached hair steers the bus into the space carefully, waiting for a dumpster to pass, making sure that she avoids overhanging Trees.

Board last, teachernan tango about the front of the bus, driver-chatting, ready to get out again after three stops. Why does he not cycle the whole way? It would be faster and cheaper.

The girl with the Indian looks, at the cafe. She work. steadily, no panic. The smoker outside, pig tailed, grinning.

good Morning, good Morning, Guten Morgen.

Out to the platform, yet again. In the distance, they are working on the tracks, using heavy machinery to move the chippings that make up the rail bed.

And later, having passed Mors Burg, the train arrives in Frising, in the lightening grey of a steadily growing dawn. 

"Mitshoko" she calls.

8 September 2016 snores and purrs in the dark
It is early, there are three bells, the sound throngs in through the open window by, open for the fresh air.
get up, wash, shave Everything is too early today.
So sit on the chair and wait.
The cat is.
in the hallway now, sitting, waiting at the base of the stairs.
It turns, and runs off into the yard.
On the way to the bus stop, the woman unlocking the discount bakery gives a loud greeting.
All the other shops will remain lifeless untill eight in the morning.
Even a discount bakery needs to prepare it's wares in the hot air ovens at the lack of the shop.
The shoe shop named sutor, opposite, is grim and dark.
at the bus stop there is a young woman sitting in the bus shelter, all fashionable, sneakers and handbag.
Also the bog cotton man is their, his white hair waving in the air like that plant that grows on the hills in Ireland.
Last seen between Kippure and gleann da locha.
The bog cotton man smells strongly of state.
cigarette smoke.
He commences to extinguish his cigarette in the waste paper basket attached to the bus stop's supporting pole.
The teacher man turns up too, dressed gaudy as always, overweight and with a small rucksack.
And all board the bus.
Teachermam gtts off two stops later, everyone else continues onto the station.
There, a small congregation of smoking men and women surround the large ashtray in the yellow square painted on the pavement.

Good morning to the one with the pigtail, and on to the café. The young girl of Indian descent is placidly serving all the customers, one after the next. Things runs smoothly.
A woman turns up in what looks like her old wedding dress, she a latter-yeared teenager with bleached short hair, and orders a cappocino coffee.
"Mitshoko" she calls. That means - with chocolate powder sprinkled over the white foam in the paper cup.
Look away, do not wish to be seen gawping rudely. Still, the drink looks like effluent soap suds under a waste pipe.



to the belated train on the platform No.
6.
A journey through dark fog, to Freising-

smell of flour

Fsept 2016

No wish to go to work today.
none at all

must be done.
A warm shower, soft shoes and
a fresh

shirt

The cat yawns and stretches, from the bed where it

has lain all night.

collect the items for the day, the earphones for The

language lessons It will be a long time before Portuguese

is fluent, but a small amount every day may help.

There is the sweet smell from the bakery in the

stairwell. This pleasant smell of flour, baking and

sugary things is all over the red quarter of the

town in the morning. Bread, croissants, pastries.

They start at four.

A young woman strides down the alley.. She is

tall, and is wearing tight trousers. And she is in a

hurry, her long hair swaying over her back.

0
Say 'guten Morgan to the lady from the Discount

Bakery. She is unlocking the doors to the premises

A police car passes the bus stop, slowing as it

sees this solitary person in a dark jacket,
and Then

moves on, passing the archway into town, nearly

colliding with a cyclist who happens to be coming The

other way.

The teacherman arrives, a young man with a

protruding stomach. Let him board the bus first.

The bus driver, a grumpy man who gives change and tickets
-He takes it out of the

machine and reaches it over.

Good mornings at the railway station, the cafe is

well visited today. The baldy man, friendly, is 

helping out, and-

A large coffee, a flickering digital television set, a

documentary about China.

And amid the noise of footsteps and wait for the time when the train has moved into

its place on The platform.

It is dark, dawn just a hint.

A few hours later, in the evening, the light will be

dimming again

This is the start of the season where the work part of

every weekday is during daylight and the private

part of the day is spent in the dimness and dark.

For six months, half a year.

Aproaching the winter solstice, three months, the time at work is spent during the light part of the day, and free time is all dark then.

black from a lack of light.

6 September 2016

Wait five minutes. Wait in the house.

The street is damp, as if it had been freshly washed. It was

only the rain, not the street cleaners.

A large delivery truck comes up the alley, followed by

a speeding car. There is a small group of men

walking down the Old town street, and the man

managing the discount bakery is carrying empty boxes out of his shop, ready for the rubbish collection.

The bus driver is the same as yesterday, the teacherman is being really chatty with her.

Coffee, slow today, and there are no lids for the mugs in their usual place.

Search and find.

A man wheels a stack of beer crates through

the crowded café, shouting 'Fuzzy".

No, that is a warning in german, take care,

"VORSICHT".

sounds 'fuzzy."

The train is full today, and it runs along it's

tracks through a countryside now black from

a lack of light.

Winter solstice in december

sneaking in to platform six

the melody on the telephone

Fumbling at the buttons on the glass screen to turn it off. A quick shower, and brush the

teeth.

Two weeks break, and now back to the old routine.

The cat is curious, it maybe has forgotten the daily details

of two weeks ago.

trust and wait for the bells of saint martin's, there they are. Two bells, it is half past five.

The dark, and will remain so for the next six months, at this hour.

In the deserted streets the only things important now are-

in the streets are the shop signs, Lipp shoes standing out for some reason.

at the bus stop, the electronic announcement board

shows that the bus is only due in nine minutes. Check

the timetable attached to the bus stop, see that it is due in

at five forty two.

The bus driver, a young woman today with white hair. White in this light.

A small group is congregated around the ashtray and the pigtailed smoker in the station forecourt.

Some discussion, say hello and pass.

coffee at the cafe, an unkempt effusive man with

staring eyes and wild straggly long hair attempts to be over friendly to the waitress.

She is busy, and does not get involved in any discussion.

and in the cafe, there is nothing but the television,

silent, d e f e k t. Defective.

There is nothing but tiredness.

Wait for the train, in ten minutes it is there, sneaking in to platform six

ten

Sunday, recovery from the holidays complete now. The pictures are
fine.
The technical camera works.
fine
First thought
Slept

all night.

Now

Sunny, and colder than south of the Alps.
They stop the icy winds from the north before they reach Italy

A few cars under way in the street outside.

Nothing new.
No news.

Memories now
work tomorrow
back to the recriminations, "where where you" when "we" needed "you".

But never mind.
After twenty five years on the job

nothing is personal
discrimination
normal
everywhere.




remember the colleague, a master mechanic,
talks on the aside:
questioned

"you employed a black girl?"
so what?
he declares that he would never have expected that.
oh!.




and he was the friendly man from next door.


It is only in comics that we can see for sure what people are thinking.
text bubbles enclosed in dotted lines








A young woman on a bicycle
stopped by a policeman
Asked for a purchase reciept
as proof that the bicycle had not been stolen.
That was the first time ever that wildo had heard of such a thing.
In Ireland, England, France and Germany.

Memories of work, and the things learnt there about discrimination.

ten bells toll.
Sunday

a night unconscious

light room early in the moning, sun just risen, unlike the dusky italian rooms with their blinds.
home.
The town bells, different from the clattering village bells.  The town bells clamour more than that they clatter.

Different sounds, and there are no cocks crowing.

Nobody is keeping hens in town.
This is germany.

It would probably not be allowed.

One days journey, crossing two mountain ranges,
plus
Three hour work taking pictures of important physicists from all over the world
equals
one nights sleep, a night of uncensored unconsciousness

the day the car drove us over the mountains, from Lucca to Modena

son up son wakes his parents.
it is four.
Gather the last things from the flat in Italy, home for ten days.
to the car.
confusion.
wrong directions.
A day that has started darkly

Fog

Fog in Giovanio

1st of september 2016

cocks crow and the fog over gioviano dears. It is an

Autumn  sunrise. The clothes left on the balcony

clothes line over night are sodden now, as wet as when

they were washed.

The light yellows now, the fog thickens again. There

is hardly any wind, and the banks of water vapour move

slowly over the hills.

This would have heem terrible yesterday, on the twisting

winding roads with all their sudden corners, zigzagging their

-ways up and down the mountains.

Mountains all cut up and marked by the miners

cutting huge blocks of marble out at them.

Marble that weighs in at two tons, eight hundred kilograms

per cubic meter, single blocks of fifty tonnes, one overloaded

lorry.

The sun breaks through, and the old house opposite is

bathed in a most picturesque soft light. There is the

sound of gunshots echoing from the hills, hunters out

early, make life hard for the wild boars.

The sons alarm sounds, he ignores it, switch it off,

it is the last day off the holidays, maybe the last time ever in

this village.

There is the sound of a woodpecker drumming at a tree

and, down under the balcony there is a red, black and white

cat hunting. It is under the hedge, waiting for mice.

Think of yesterdays views, cliffs of marble hundreds of feet

high, cut out of the hill smooth and cleanly.  A cliff made

up of rectangles, each demarcated by the drill marks that

served as a glide for the cutting wires that cut the blocks

down from the mountain.

Just a white and grey surface, stained with the

oil and residue from those wires.

 Later, much later,

to line the floors of bathrooms and palaces the world

over.

Dog

Fog in Giovanio