Friday 7
The bathroom is icy cold, the German winter is underway it is the end of the first week in October. The cat has remained on the bed, purring to itself. It is getting older now, cats have fast lives.
Dry the head, find the glasses. The alley is is damp, it has been raining. The older lady, Dolores, is still on her way to the bus stop, wrapped in her coat, her scarf and her hat. It is cold, but she seems to feel this more and worse than others do. She is very slow, one foot before the next. Finally seated in the bus shelter.
A grin, and good morning. The bogcotton man is already here, white hair tied back. Very much like Mozart's wig in illustrations on chocolates, chocolates by Reber in Reichenhall. Only-the man is older than Mozart ever was..
Teachumann arrives, staring wildly, he seems to be checking up on everybody That is low his expression works, his real character may be different The bus is to be seen in the distance, rounding the corner by the old gaol. Check the money, the bus driver is in luck, there is enough change for the exact fare.
The girl with the blonde rastafarian hairdo is at her now-usual place on board the bus-she has a pretty face, baby fat and shiny-glowing-
An eight minute drive later, the bus is at the railway station. The lndian girl, she is of Indian descent anyway, going by her name; smiles and says 'hello".
She recognises her customers too. Take the coffee, take a lid for the coffee. Someone has dripped sweet syrup over the lid, discard the plastic thing and take another .
Hedgehog, grins, watches, and says good morning'. It is Friday, is that the explanation for everybody's good humour?
Hurricane Matthew is on the television, pictures of of cars fleeing the storm, a whole population making an exodus. There are also pictures of Haiti, and those That were not able to flee.
So many dead.
The bathroom is icy cold, the German winter is underway it is the end of the first week in October. The cat has remained on the bed, purring to itself. It is getting older now, cats have fast lives.
Dry the head, find the glasses. The alley is is damp, it has been raining. The older lady, Dolores, is still on her way to the bus stop, wrapped in her coat, her scarf and her hat. It is cold, but she seems to feel this more and worse than others do. She is very slow, one foot before the next. Finally seated in the bus shelter.
A grin, and good morning. The bogcotton man is already here, white hair tied back. Very much like Mozart's wig in illustrations on chocolates, chocolates by Reber in Reichenhall. Only-the man is older than Mozart ever was..
Teachumann arrives, staring wildly, he seems to be checking up on everybody That is low his expression works, his real character may be different The bus is to be seen in the distance, rounding the corner by the old gaol. Check the money, the bus driver is in luck, there is enough change for the exact fare.
The girl with the blonde rastafarian hairdo is at her now-usual place on board the bus-she has a pretty face, baby fat and shiny-glowing-
An eight minute drive later, the bus is at the railway station. The lndian girl, she is of Indian descent anyway, going by her name; smiles and says 'hello".
She recognises her customers too. Take the coffee, take a lid for the coffee. Someone has dripped sweet syrup over the lid, discard the plastic thing and take another .
Hedgehog, grins, watches, and says good morning'. It is Friday, is that the explanation for everybody's good humour?
Hurricane Matthew is on the television, pictures of of cars fleeing the storm, a whole population making an exodus. There are also pictures of Haiti, and those That were not able to flee.
So many dead.
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