car

The bathroom is ice cold today, but the way there is colder

The warm water pours out of the shower eventually, but takes a long time to reach the usual temperature, the house is cooling down.

And when the daily clothing ritual is completed, gather the bag with the computer in it and leave the house. It  is a car day today. There are things to be brought home from work. Pick up the freshly charged emergency battery from the floor beside the electric socket where it has been charging.

Leave the house at five thirty, and walk up the alley the other way, away from the church. At the end of the alley turn right, that street has a vocational school on one side and a police station on the other, and the small blue car is parked there. Put the battery and the bag in the front seat.

The car starts with a groan, the internal battery is on it's last legs, the temperature is at least minus ten degrees, it is a wonder that it works at all. The car in gear, the mirror adjusted, the lights on, and so drive through the sleeping town as far as the tunnel, then through the tunnel and down the road along by the river.

The car hums along, it sounds like a functioning machine, all is in order.

And just at the turn for the Autobahn, turn on the radio.

Listen to a part of Vladimir Horowitz' last concert.

The day starts well, manoeuvring along between all the other cars.

To be at work at six fifteen.

Early.