twelve coins

Monday,August 7, 2017

Take off the mask, after silencing the clock. get out of bed, go to the bathroom, wash and brush the teeth. That's it. That is all. Pick up the bag and leave the house..

The sheets are deserted, as usual at this early hour. The light is dim, there are clouds, whacking the light. Days are becoming shorter now, nights longer.. Perfectly plastered building odd structures. freshly done up, renovated. old buildings in new finery =>

The municipal man with his hat, fat and freshly washed, shining, with strange new glasses.

A man pays his fare to the bus driver, twelve coins. Ten cent pieces.

Fog at the railway station, people with suitcases. It is the holiday season.

The railway station is covered with fog, grey steamy clouds of it. The smoker is back at his position-in front of The building, he says "good Morning".

The landscape seen from the train is close, distances being obscured by the fog, no perspective.

As if the creator had been lazy, leaving every image of things distant to the imagination.