Running late again. A brief look up and out of the focus tunnel. Trying to tell hour of day from the lines the shadows draw on the outer concrete. No clues found. But the sound of kids laughing, giggling, playing in the office backyard; the unbroken fascination of water. Using a one-liner to extract current time from logfiles, clumsy and rough but getting the job done. Closing in on 4pm. Dizzy. And still heading on.
mögen das
Marga Xeyat â’¶ hat dies geteilt.