Radio
In the room under the roof it is very quiet. Although early in the morning the gardners the park clean. Trees cut. Leaves wegpusten. With a roaring hose, which does not suck, like the vacuum cleaner at home, but blows. But me it is in the room with the Engelin, which no word of itself gives, with their watering can fully rain water in the left hand, much too quiet. I called Mrs. Krakowska on whom otherwise I in Krakau have called could? And it asked whether she had not coincidentally a radio, which does not need. It me for three months check-out counters could. It has and can. It brought me in the morning into the mansion. A radio to the bed. With bell. Alarm. Buzzer. Slumber. And different programs. I was not allowed to hear. It carried me forward. Back into the city. To the meal. Buy. Dte-drink. Evenly typically Mrs. Krakowska. In the afternoon I wanted to drive to Kwiatonowice. The bus station is because of construction work now to the Nullo or Zistersienserstrasse. Directly before the house by Mrs. Krakowska.
