a dark morning, like yesterday, and the same as tomorrow will be. Up and go to the bathroom, the same procedure as yesterday, and then brush the teeth, just like yesterday. The feet are cold in this poorly insulated bathroom, the floor thinly covers the arch below. The cold feet are encased in socks on the return to the bedroom. Underwear from the wardrobe like every day, the rest of the clothes from the back of the chair. Put the clothes on to the background sounds of the wife's snores and the cat's purring. Then to the kitchen, make a sparse breakfast with a big cup of espresso coffee. A slice of the brown german farmers bread and butter too.
The morning is still dark, read the news. The don thing in the united States of America seems to be recovering from his failed bid for absolute power, spouting threats again. He has lost some of his voice, cannot twitter any more. Now there will be more time for the rest of the world on the news.
Spend time wondering if the virus will strike this family, there is no safe harbour. It is nothing to worry about for there is no difference to be made.
The snoring is louder now, move into the living room and sit on the couch. Ruminate on thoughts like some graminivore on its favourite food.
Much later, the doorbell downstairs rings.
Ten new yellow towels have arrived.
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