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Upon leaving the house this morning see that the waste bin outside the front door is facing the wrong way. Turn it around, so that the handle is facing the street. Just then, the cyclist with the knitted cap comes down the street, she glances over, looks shocked. It must be the early morning, What on earth is shocking about a man turning a rubbish tin, so that it's handle faces the street? Maybe her expression has nothing to do with the bin, maybe with something else entirely. And otherwise, the streets are empty of people.
There are no delivery vans in the main street.
Dolores is huddled in a corner of the bus shelter, the breakfast room in the hotel across the water is not fully lit up yet.
Things are a little bit different today, there is no clear reason for why or what it is. The bus is only due in nine minutes.
Read the news on the telephone, check the advertising, delete the whole lot. Erdogan expects the German authorities to spy on expatriate Turks? Silly man.
The bus arrives, with the unfriendly driver. The Rasta hairdo girl, a few men huddled in coats.
The girl usually putting on her makeup is asleep today. We have all lost an hour due to the change to summer time, and the missing hour is a problem for early risers.
Hello to the smoker at the station, good morning all, squeeze past the delivery mans palletes.
Coffee ordered, paid for, the usual people in the cafe. Make sure that the lid for the coffee cup is clean, and free of drips of syrup.
The train is crowded today, overheated.
The dawn is a pink stripe on the horizon, under what seems to be a cloudless shy.
Upon leaving the house this morning see that the waste bin outside the front door is facing the wrong way. Turn it around, so that the handle is facing the street. Just then, the cyclist with the knitted cap comes down the street, she glances over, looks shocked. It must be the early morning, What on earth is shocking about a man turning a rubbish tin, so that it's handle faces the street? Maybe her expression has nothing to do with the bin, maybe with something else entirely. And otherwise, the streets are empty of people.
There are no delivery vans in the main street.
Dolores is huddled in a corner of the bus shelter, the breakfast room in the hotel across the water is not fully lit up yet.
Things are a little bit different today, there is no clear reason for why or what it is. The bus is only due in nine minutes.
Read the news on the telephone, check the advertising, delete the whole lot. Erdogan expects the German authorities to spy on expatriate Turks? Silly man.
The bus arrives, with the unfriendly driver. The Rasta hairdo girl, a few men huddled in coats.
The girl usually putting on her makeup is asleep today. We have all lost an hour due to the change to summer time, and the missing hour is a problem for early risers.
Hello to the smoker at the station, good morning all, squeeze past the delivery mans palletes.
Coffee ordered, paid for, the usual people in the cafe. Make sure that the lid for the coffee cup is clean, and free of drips of syrup.
The train is crowded today, overheated.
The dawn is a pink stripe on the horizon, under what seems to be a cloudless shy.
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