The space was bare and the water from the first shower was cold, how could it have been anything else? It was scary just how much this reminded him of Germany. The loneliness, the eeriness. But there was no doubt something totally different, something ganz anderes. Everyone seemed to think he was mad for living in the space, but he didn't understand. If only they'd seen the place's he'd slept in before. That beach in Cadiz was easily the worst of them all, but airports in Paris, Barcelona and Copenhagen weren't shabby, except for the uncomfortable, anti-sleep chairs, then there was the little Hyundi Excel which had served him quite well, amazing in its multitude of sleeping position options and of course the various buses he'd specifically boarded, knowing that the cushioned seat and nice scenery provided ample bedding.
In Saaldorf, he'd awoken at 4 in the morning to a fit of sneezing and had realised then and there as his vision panned the Christ ornamented bedroom. With an energy that surpassed that of 4 in the morning he searched out a vacuum cleaner and began relentlessly cleaning the room. But he'd take joyful moments to remember what Oliveira had said, 'only by living absurdly can we escape this infinite absurdity,' alles klar.
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