first nights in a new and strange bed is always followed by an early mornings. nothing is like the bed you have at home, so soft and cosy it embraces you everytime you go to bed.
breakfast is often leftovers from yesterdays travel food, tea is made the oldfashion way by cooking the water on the oven. this new place is not so bad, i have a radio here and i don’t have to share the kitchen with anyone but myself for a change.
there is only my mess, my smell, my things.

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