To Prague. 27/11. Morning.

Wake up call at 06:15.
Coffee. Long, hot and black.
While the kettle was boiling had some humus. I was hungry. Yesterday's night spliff?
So, the coffee. The loo. The backpack.

Three pairs of sox. Three trunks. A shirt. A sweeter. Pajama and t-shirt. The Chrono Trigger's azure one. The chocolate I bought yesterday from Hotel Chocolat. Cables for iPhone and Blackberry. The USB adapter. Something else I don't recall right now.

Another cup of joe and then dressing up. It's already half past seven.

Trousers: Uniqlo's kaki ones from last year. I so need to go shopping.
Shirt: the white and yellow table cloth one.
Sweater: scottish lamb wool. Überwarm. Prague is cold. I'm going to die in the Victoria line's guts.
Shoes: the usual boots I use this days.

Flatmate is up. 15 to 8. Having breakfast on the sofa. Hope he washes the dishes before going out. Actually, who cares? I'm out till Monday :D
Getting out at 10 to 8. Chilly air. The breath freezes in pufs of smoke. Nice. I like it.
Cigarette on the way to the station. Adriana cafe. 08:01. The train should be at 08:06. Good.

Touch in. Stairs. Train. It's hot in here. Shitload of people. Only two stops. A nice redhead lurks over her boyfriend shoulder. LöL.
Highbury and Islington. King's Cross-St. Pancras.

Crossing the station. Ticket. Why the guy before me in lines is always such an idiot? It's a ticket machine not rocket science. Read the frigging on screen instruction. Ticket. Train.

The doors close just a second before me and a woman reach them. The guy says that there's another one downstairs "platform b".

Stairs. Platform b. Train. Now.

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