into the distance, weaving his bicycle

Wednesday, 10.1.2017
A taxi approaches, driving up theatre street from the town gate. A large cream Mercedes-Benz station waggon. Farther down, at the gate, the bakery van is unloading the daily bread at the bakery.
Move on, through the gate. Pause at the lawn, at the grassed-over area between the cobbled footpath and the river to watch a small flock of eight ducks. They are waiting for the man that feeds the ducks to arrive. They are there, a small group, quacking now and again.
Walk on to the bus stop and look back to the town gate. Dolores is approaching, a very slow walk. she is probably tired, maybe unwell. She reaches the bus shelter, wishes a barely audible good morning.. The bog cotton man is there too, all wrapped up in winter clothing.
A cyclist in an orange overall passes. He is highly visible, even in the dim light from the street lamps. It is the uniform of a street cleaner, reflective patches at the bottoms of the trousers, glowing ankles. He speeds of into the distance, weaving his bicycle around the truck and trailer standing before the clothes shop at the corner.
After the bus ride to the station, see that the smoker is there, usual place at the pedestal ashtray in front of the station. He says good morning too. At the cafe, the slow girl is serving again. She is faster now, she probably only started work in the cafe at the beginning of the year, that is only ten days ago. After all is done she will learn. Sit in the waiting room, write notes. The fussy man is reading a book, and referencing things from another tiny book, a dictionary, or a timetable- He constantly looks from one to the other, drinking coffee all the while from his colourful mug. He must he learning a language, or something.
Aboard the Train, greeted by a smell of old clothes and garlic. Without checking for the source of these odours, walk down the carriage past the lavatories to find a free seat. A free seat with a small plastic-veneered table.
Sit, take out the notebook. At that moment there is the noise of chewing from one of the neighbouring seats. A man eating carrots, raw, from a plastic container. A horrible noise, crunch, chomp
champ. Then another man starts to snivel, then snorting the snot back up his nose, now the carrot-eater has a fit of coughing.
These are the drawbacks of public transport.