Monday, september 4, 2077
A bright red light at the back of a bicycle, down the alley and around the corner by the church. A cyclist on his way to work. In the cracks between the cobbles there are shards . of broken glass, glistening in the strongly directed light from the street lanterns. It is really dark this morning. On main street, the Old Town street, there is a cyclist veering from side to side. What does he think that he is doing, what is he going to do? Stop walking, untill he is past. There is no need to be run down by a cyclist first thing in the morning. He is a man with white hair showing from under a gaudy cyclist's safety helmet. A man who does not move in straight lines.
From under the archway of the town gate hear the roar of the flooded river, see the glistening mass of water, like a giant millrace, There is a lone duck sitting on the wall bordering on the river.
At the bus stop, there is the bog cotton man, his hair white, longer again. He is smoking a cigarette, paauses in his smoking to wish a good morning
See the teacher-like man arrive, yellow trouserd today. He is waring hi hat too, a wide -brimmed affair. There is no smoker at the railway staton. At least. the usual man with the pigtail is not there. The bald man with the beard in the cafe has the coffee ready without a word. Let him stamp the card, wish him good morning anyway, as he takes the money.
He returns the good worivg.
A bright red light at the back of a bicycle, down the alley and around the corner by the church. A cyclist on his way to work. In the cracks between the cobbles there are shards . of broken glass, glistening in the strongly directed light from the street lanterns. It is really dark this morning. On main street, the Old Town street, there is a cyclist veering from side to side. What does he think that he is doing, what is he going to do? Stop walking, untill he is past. There is no need to be run down by a cyclist first thing in the morning. He is a man with white hair showing from under a gaudy cyclist's safety helmet. A man who does not move in straight lines.
From under the archway of the town gate hear the roar of the flooded river, see the glistening mass of water, like a giant millrace, There is a lone duck sitting on the wall bordering on the river.
At the bus stop, there is the bog cotton man, his hair white, longer again. He is smoking a cigarette, paauses in his smoking to wish a good morning
See the teacher-like man arrive, yellow trouserd today. He is waring hi hat too, a wide -brimmed affair. There is no smoker at the railway staton. At least. the usual man with the pigtail is not there. The bald man with the beard in the cafe has the coffee ready without a word. Let him stamp the card, wish him good morning anyway, as he takes the money.
He returns the good worivg.
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