9 NOV 2017
Dark winter, the clock sounds. It could be any time in the night, but for the illuminated face of the clock showing five point zero zero.
The shower, warm, then too hot , and then ; on adjustment, too cold. Then warm again.
All right, brush the teeth, shave and put on clothes. The right foot is very sore today, there is a raw spot on the heel. That makes walking painful.
Hobble down Church Alley, cross the main street, and down Theatre street towards the bus stop at the river. Hitherto today two cyclists and a car on the streets. And the person at the entrance to the turkish bakery standing at the entrance unlocking the door.
First at the bus stop today, despite having to walk slowly. First the bog cotton man arrives, then Dolores. Both say good morning.
All is dark, just street lights and the glinting reflection from the river's water.
The three lights on the path over the dam blocking the river for the power station make three sodium orange streaks on the water, every ripple reflecting the light anew.
Bus arrives, the driver gets paid. Then over the bridge and past Christ's church. The bus is full today, there are only seats left on the bench.
Sit there watch the stops go by, the Technical College, the Hofanger Weg with it's petrol station. Onward! Soon the short journey to the railway station is over.
Limp on slowly, pat the bicycles and up the stairs to the big hall, the bakery and the newsagents to the left, the cafe and the new oriental food place to the right.
The bald man in the caf, friendly, he has the coffee on already. He takes the proffered coins and stamps the little card. And then on to the next customer.
The young woman with the big black-rimmed glasses finally hand over the paper mug.Walk along the counter to the small waiting room, select one of the stools with the welded undercarriage to sit upon. This will not collapse, or threaten to do so. Start to write these notes.
The people in the waiting room vanish , are replaced by the white pages of the black covered note book and the plastic coated wood imitation top surface of the table. The clear voices saying things turn into a background mumble.
Dark winter, the clock has sounded, alli done and-
It is an hour later, and it is time to limp on down the stairs and along the tiled passageway
To platform number six.
And when there , see that the small train from Rosenheim has just arrived at platform one, at the cafe.
Dark winter, the clock sounds. It could be any time in the night, but for the illuminated face of the clock showing five point zero zero.
The shower, warm, then too hot , and then ; on adjustment, too cold. Then warm again.
All right, brush the teeth, shave and put on clothes. The right foot is very sore today, there is a raw spot on the heel. That makes walking painful.
Hobble down Church Alley, cross the main street, and down Theatre street towards the bus stop at the river. Hitherto today two cyclists and a car on the streets. And the person at the entrance to the turkish bakery standing at the entrance unlocking the door.
First at the bus stop today, despite having to walk slowly. First the bog cotton man arrives, then Dolores. Both say good morning.
All is dark, just street lights and the glinting reflection from the river's water.
The three lights on the path over the dam blocking the river for the power station make three sodium orange streaks on the water, every ripple reflecting the light anew.
Bus arrives, the driver gets paid. Then over the bridge and past Christ's church. The bus is full today, there are only seats left on the bench.
Sit there watch the stops go by, the Technical College, the Hofanger Weg with it's petrol station. Onward! Soon the short journey to the railway station is over.
Limp on slowly, pat the bicycles and up the stairs to the big hall, the bakery and the newsagents to the left, the cafe and the new oriental food place to the right.
The bald man in the caf, friendly, he has the coffee on already. He takes the proffered coins and stamps the little card. And then on to the next customer.
The young woman with the big black-rimmed glasses finally hand over the paper mug.Walk along the counter to the small waiting room, select one of the stools with the welded undercarriage to sit upon. This will not collapse, or threaten to do so. Start to write these notes.
The people in the waiting room vanish , are replaced by the white pages of the black covered note book and the plastic coated wood imitation top surface of the table. The clear voices saying things turn into a background mumble.
Dark winter, the clock has sounded, alli done and-
It is an hour later, and it is time to limp on down the stairs and along the tiled passageway
To platform number six.
And when there , see that the small train from Rosenheim has just arrived at platform one, at the cafe.
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