Translation from my little notebook

20 October 2009

Half past seven in the morning, it is still dark and my breath forms tiny clouds in the cold air.

Five minutes delay. I huddle up in my scarf a little more. Look back one more time. The sky above me is dark, but the sky above you is already turning pink, yellow and purple, as soft as the blankets under which you can sleep for a little longer.

I miss you already.