The nine and a half ago, at the stop of the bus that stops at the Technische Fakultät, are gray. The gray mist is gray and small drops of dew cling to clothes. A somewhat reduced speed, I'm going to get to the parking of bicycles. Motorists overtake me nervous forcing a second engine on the BMW running low and there is a sticker attached to the mast of the roof. He says something like "Christus ja, nein Kirche" and there is a phone number. Some of the little German
morning as I drink huge cups of bad coffee in Bäkerei. Lunch awaits them probably drowned in pork fat with a brown sauce, huge plates of boiled rice with chopped vegetables for some of the black forest woodsman or sandwiches of white bread. The contents of the sandwiches is lost in a sea of \u200b\u200bmayonnaise. I missed the slice of cucumber always take it off, because my dad says that eating cucumbers wicked and I have no difficulty to become bad when I find huge washers cucumber raw almost anywhere. I believe that the bag
PC, shouldered the whole half-hour trip, I somehow crush the jugular at the shoulder. I always have headaches when I arrive. And then when I Davani Hugenottenplatz the thermometer, which marks 8 ° C, there is always a jerk in pedal pushers and a shirt of iron maiden who smokes a cigarette as if walking to Jesolo July 12. From inside my scarf, never fails to curse him in a Venetian dialect harvested settembrina.
Un'altra giornata può cominciare.
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