7am and on, unsure whether slow or fast. Getting minor repetitive tasks out of the way leaves a strange feeling of productivity which doesn't stand a closer look, however. Kids heading for school, janitor cars trying to find free space in an already utterly crowded street, neighbours doing phone calls in open kitchen windows: Listening to the city wake up.
Feels like always 10pm. That very hour of the day where just a vague remainder of focus and determination is left and conscious thoughts slowly fade into confusing dreams and outright nonsense. (Watching the red light of the last christmas star left in the kitchen window. And the traces of snow on the glass behind. And the lights of the houses across the backyard behind the snow. Different levels of closeness and distance.)