birds how I envy that they fly and sit outside my window and not feel the bitter cold. Are they cold blooded? no, then they would not survive at all outside in this Minus world. Smoke rises from steam vents from the hinterhaus below me, and far away near the great big chemical company. But the steam doesn't heat up the air appreciably. It is too cold.
The morning was dark and cold. I walked to the train station with my friend and bade him goodbye for his commute - an hour and half journey. Perhaps I secretly enjoy that I don't have to join him, or spend quality time with him at this time in the morning. I need the extra time. Vacation and the future prospect of retirement ages 24/7 is alright, but I am quite not ready for it. I have been alone for too long in my life, and liked it. Really. I need my space. I like my space. I like writing. It suits me too.
The bird it is. Not birds. It is only ever one here at a time. Good, that's the way I like it. At least this morning. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy socials and being with other people, but just not as much as the average joe or jane. Birds don't have such deep retrospection. Does anything drive them? Why does this particular bird visit MY window and roof ledge? Is she nesting? Is it a he? What is really going on here? Is that where my imagination has gone, with the pigeon outside flying away in the cold bright winter morning. Soon it won't be morning anymore. I get to eat lunch. I would however like a snack. I think, my stomach is paining for something. Maybe it is just paining for no reason other than I am a fat bird on a cold concrete ledge and I don't know why I am flying around here. But I don't care.
