10pm and a few more steps. As always. Somewhere in between calm and stirred up. Also as always. Changing music, randomly, to finally opt for whichever silence a city has to offer. No new storm yet. But a pedestrian whistling on his way home, the sound of bottles on stone near the pub, the sound of a messenger ringing doorbells carrying a bulky bag of food, and the subliminal noise of all the breaths and sighs and turning pages of books and removing clothes for sleep and water of showers flowing down old rusty pipes combined. Ambiance, dissonant. In between different tales of today. (Have a calm night wherever you are!)
10pm and on. Finally. The wordless silence that starts and ends days. Dizzy, lightheaded and a bit out of touch with everything, knowing that too many close looks reveal things unsettling and disturbing. A heavy door falling shut, as travelers returned home. Lights on staircases, flashing bright, lasting for a few moments, fading again. Breaking news and phone calls and the infinity of worlds beyond horizons. At arms length: A city embraced by velvet darkness. Silent. Indifferent. (Have a soothing night wherever you are.)
(Immer noch geeignete Musik suchen. Zeitsteuerung für die eigenen Lichter überarbeiten, unzufrieden mit den Intervallen, die so gar nicht zur subjektiven Taktung passen wollen. Den Stimmen entlang der Straße lauschen, ohne die Gespräche zu verstehen, aber der gleichförmige, warme Klang gesprochener Worte fühlt sich beruhigend und nah an. Gegenüber in der Küche wird mit Töpfen und Pfannen hantiert, zwei dunkle Gestalten schaffen es, auf beengtem Terrain nicht übereinander zu stolpern und dann und wann am offenen Fenster Wein aus großen, zart wirkenden Gläsern zu trinken. Noch einmal liegt eine Ahnung jenes Sommers in der Luft zwischen den Häusern, der eher eine Stimmung als eine Jahreszeit sein will.)
(Slightly later, just half conscious: The comfort of warm showers. The soft, embracing air afterwards. How not to tremble in sleepy cold. How to float with all the images washed in by the hours, and all the movies woven around by that flow.)
5pm and on. Stormy autumn, office lights still, never noticed that waiting-room style furniture and mood across the backyards. People resting in chairs, staring into a void, abstaining from conversations or any other kind of interaction. And few shadows of pedestrians crossing the road heading for the train station. Dark to light light to dark. Sore throat, voice almost gone, thoughts settling again like snowflakes or particles of dust.