A mechanical morning. Wash under the spray of warm water, brush the teeth. Tinnitus is roaring, it is hard to concentrate.
Today, a car day.
Gather the bag and leave the house, go up the alley, away from the church. Pass a small bakery, one of the older ones. They are just starting up shop. Walk down the new market, past the ice cream parlour, then right down the narrow laneway, past the modern flats, left at the end and across the gravel square that had been the christmas market a few weeks ago. It is raining.
There, in front of the church, is the car, blue, and wet with the rain. Get in, start the engine, and manouvre the car out of the tight parking spot.
And then it is a matter of driving in the glare of oncoming headlamps, glistening streets, barely recognisable dark shapes. Enter the tunnel under the castle hill, and start the fan of the cars heating system to dissipate the fog condensing on the window. It is warm in the tunnel, and the damp air condenses onto the cold windows.
Something was forgotten, the ipad tablet. Leave the tunnel, turning right instead of left. And there is the bus stop. Dolores is long gone now. Take a short cut through the town, over the bit of pedestrian zone (illegal, even at this hour) and return home. Go back into the house, collect the pad, pick up the camera for the repair service and return to the car.
Back down the alley, down the new market street, turn right, wait at the traffic lights, and then back into the tunnel again.
An uneccessary loop, just forgetfulness.
Turn left at the end of the tunnel and head out of town.
Towards the motorway, the Autobahn.
To work, on a Wednesday.
Today, a car day.
Gather the bag and leave the house, go up the alley, away from the church. Pass a small bakery, one of the older ones. They are just starting up shop. Walk down the new market, past the ice cream parlour, then right down the narrow laneway, past the modern flats, left at the end and across the gravel square that had been the christmas market a few weeks ago. It is raining.
There, in front of the church, is the car, blue, and wet with the rain. Get in, start the engine, and manouvre the car out of the tight parking spot.
And then it is a matter of driving in the glare of oncoming headlamps, glistening streets, barely recognisable dark shapes. Enter the tunnel under the castle hill, and start the fan of the cars heating system to dissipate the fog condensing on the window. It is warm in the tunnel, and the damp air condenses onto the cold windows.
Something was forgotten, the ipad tablet. Leave the tunnel, turning right instead of left. And there is the bus stop. Dolores is long gone now. Take a short cut through the town, over the bit of pedestrian zone (illegal, even at this hour) and return home. Go back into the house, collect the pad, pick up the camera for the repair service and return to the car.
Back down the alley, down the new market street, turn right, wait at the traffic lights, and then back into the tunnel again.
An uneccessary loop, just forgetfulness.
Turn left at the end of the tunnel and head out of town.
Towards the motorway, the Autobahn.
To work, on a Wednesday.
No comments:
Post a Comment