20 th of February, 2018
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the alarm in the tablet sounds from the other side of the room today. It takes a while to get up and to turns it off.
The cobbles in the alley have a matt appearance. They are darker than the other stones, but the water on them is like condensation on a cold surface. Maybe it its just the reflection of the lamps in the street glaring off the basalt.
There are isolated heaps of snow lying about completely iced, and dirty. It is a cold morning, cold and dark. Dolores at the bus stop, say good morning. Say good morning to the bus driver too. Board the bus, after waiting for four minutes, pay the driver...
Say good morning to the smoker at the station, he is there with two friends today, all three of them at the ashtray. Three morning cigarettes, talking to each other. The cafe has more people inside today. The fidgety man is there, and a woman with a hat and a cloak, and a broomstick as a long walking stave.
She is carrying plastic bags, not those of smooth plastic, but those with fibres worked in, the stronger kind. She is carefully dressed, but appears like a tramp. She is old, too, she really needs the stick for support. She looks like a shepherd. There is a small pile of goods in the same kind of plastic bag outside the cafe window. There is also an old and dilapidated shopping trolley there, held together with expander belts. A low- cost solution to mobility.
The train arrives at the station on time. Board the train, and wait. It needs to be coupled to other waiting parts of the vehicle, and there seems to be a problem today. The train jerks, moves back and forth, and stays still for a short time. There are apologetic announcements over the carriage's public adress system. Finally, twenty five minutes late, the train leaves the station. Another apologetic announcement, and the train moves on to Moosburt.
On the way, it slows for every level crossing. Long lines of headlamps are visible, stretched across the dark countryside. All those drivers being held up because a a delayed train.
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the alarm in the tablet sounds from the other side of the room today. It takes a while to get up and to turns it off.
The cobbles in the alley have a matt appearance. They are darker than the other stones, but the water on them is like condensation on a cold surface. Maybe it its just the reflection of the lamps in the street glaring off the basalt.
There are isolated heaps of snow lying about completely iced, and dirty. It is a cold morning, cold and dark. Dolores at the bus stop, say good morning. Say good morning to the bus driver too. Board the bus, after waiting for four minutes, pay the driver...
Say good morning to the smoker at the station, he is there with two friends today, all three of them at the ashtray. Three morning cigarettes, talking to each other. The cafe has more people inside today. The fidgety man is there, and a woman with a hat and a cloak, and a broomstick as a long walking stave.
She is carrying plastic bags, not those of smooth plastic, but those with fibres worked in, the stronger kind. She is carefully dressed, but appears like a tramp. She is old, too, she really needs the stick for support. She looks like a shepherd. There is a small pile of goods in the same kind of plastic bag outside the cafe window. There is also an old and dilapidated shopping trolley there, held together with expander belts. A low- cost solution to mobility.
The train arrives at the station on time. Board the train, and wait. It needs to be coupled to other waiting parts of the vehicle, and there seems to be a problem today. The train jerks, moves back and forth, and stays still for a short time. There are apologetic announcements over the carriage's public adress system. Finally, twenty five minutes late, the train leaves the station. Another apologetic announcement, and the train moves on to Moosburt.
On the way, it slows for every level crossing. Long lines of headlamps are visible, stretched across the dark countryside. All those drivers being held up because a a delayed train.
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