Ich wohne seit gestern einen Stock

Ich wohne seit gestern einen Stock tiefer. Ich will es nicht laut sa­gen, aber ich wohne tiefer. Ich will es deshalb nicht laut sagen, weil ich nicht übersiedelt bin. Ich kam gestern abends aus dem Konzert nach Hause, wie gewöhnlich Samstag abends, und ging die Treppe hinauf, nachdem ich vorher das Tor aufgesperrt und auf den Lichtknopf gedrückt hatte. Ich ging ahnungslos die Treppe hinauf — der Lift ist seit dem Krieg nicht in Betrieb —, und als ich im dritten Stock angelangt war, dachte ich: „Ich wollte, ich wäre schon hier!“ und lehnte mich für einen Augenblick an die Wand neben der Lift­tür. Gewöhnlich überfällt mich im dritten Stock eine Art von Er­schöpfung, die manchmal so weit führt, dass ich denke, ich müsste schon vier Treppen gegangen sein. Aber das dachte ich diesmal nicht, ich wusste, dass ich noch ein Stockwerk über mir hatte. Ich öffnete deshalb die Augen wieder, um die letzte Treppe hinaufzu­gehen, und sah in demselben Augenblick mein Namensschild an der Tür links vom Lift. Hatte ich mich doch geirrt und war schon vier Treppen gegangen? Ich wollte auf die Tafel schauen, die das Stock­werk bezeichnete, aber gerade da ging das Licht aus.
Da der Lichtknopf auf der anderen Seite des Flurs ist, ging ich die zwei Schritte bis zu meiner Tür im Dunkeln und sperrte auf. Bis zu meiner Tür? Aber welche Tür sollte es denn sein, wenn mein Name daran stand? Ich musste eben doch schon vier Treppen gegangen sein.
Die Tür öffnete sich auch gleich ohne Widerstand, ich fand den Schalter und stand in dem erleuchteten Vorzimmer, in meinem Vor­zimmer, und alles war wie sonst: die roten Tapeten, die ich längst hatte wechseln wollen, und die Bank, die daran gerückt war, und links der Gang zur Küche. Alles war wie sonst. In der Küche lag das Brot, das ich zum Abendessen nicht mehr gegessen hatte, noch in der Brotdose. Es war alles unverändert. Ich schnitt ein Stück Brot ab und begann zu essen, erinnerte mich aber plötzlich, dass ich die Tür zum Flur nicht geschlossen hatte, als ich hereingekommen war, und ging ins Vorzimmer zurück, um sie zu schließen.
Dabei sah ich in dem Licht, das aus dem Vorzimmer auf den Flur fiel, die Tafel, die das Stockwerk bezeichnete. Dort stand: Dritter Stock. Ich lief hinaus, drückte auf den Lichtknopf und las es noch einmal. Dann las ich die Namensschilder auf den übrigen Türen. Es waren die Namen der Leute, die bisher unter mir gewohnt hatten. Ich wollte dann die Stiegen hinaufgehen, um mich zu überzeugen, wer nun neben den Leuten wohnte, die bisher neben mir gewohnt hatten, ob nun wirklich der Arzt, der bisher unter mir gewohnt hatte, über mir wohnte, fühlte mich aber plötzlich so schwach, dass ich zu Bett gehen musste...
Seither liege ich wach und denke darüber nach, was morgen werden soll. Von Zeit zu Zeit bin ich immer noch verlockt, aufzustehen und hinaufzugehen und mir Gewissheit zu verschaffen. Aber ich fühle mich zu schwach, und es könnte auch sein, dass von dem Licht im Flur da oben einer erwachte und herauskäme und mich fragte: „Was suchen Sie hier?“ Und diese Frage, von einem meiner bisherigen Nachbarn gestellt, fürchte ich so sehr, dass ich lieber liegen bleibe, obwohl ich weiß, dass es bei Tageslicht noch schwerer sein wird, hinaufzugehen.
Nebenan höre ich die Atemzüge des Studenten, der bei mir wohnt; er ist Schiffsbaustudent, und er atmet tief und gleichmäßig. Er hat keine Ahnung von dem, was geschehen ist. Er hat keine Ahnung, und ich liege hier wach. Ich frage mich, ob ich ihn morgen fragen werde. Er geht wenig aus, und wahrscheinlich ist er zu Hause ge­wesen, während ich im Konzert war. Er müsste es wissen. Vielleicht frage ich auch die Aufräumefrau.
Nein. Ich werde es nicht tun. Wie sollte ich denn jemanden fragen, der mich nicht fragt? Wie sollte ich auf ihn zugehen und ihm sagen:
„Wissen Sie vielleicht, ob ich nicht gestern noch eine Treppe höher wohnte?“ Und was soll er darauf sagen? Meine Hoffnung bleibt, dass mich jemand fragen wird, dass mich morgen jemand fragen wird: „Verzeihen Sie, aber wohnten Sie nicht gestern noch einen Stock höher?“ Aber wie ich meine Aufräumefrau kenne, wird sie nicht fragen. Oder einer meiner früheren Nachbarn: „Wohnten Sie nicht gestern noch neben uns?“ Oder einer meiner neuen Nachbarn. Aber wie ich sie kenne, werden sie alle nicht fragen. Und dann bleibt mir nichts übrig, als so zu tun, als hätte ich mein Leben lang schon einen Stock tiefer gewohnt.
Ich frage mich, was geschehen wäre, wenn ich das Konzert gelassen hätte. Aber diese Frage ist von heute an ebenso müßig geworden wie alle anderen Fragen. Ich will einzuschlafen versuchen.

Ich wohne jetzt im Keller. Es hat den Vorteil, dass meine Auf­räumefrau sich nicht mehr um die Kohlen hinunterbemühen muss, wir haben sie nebenan, und sie scheint ganz zufrieden damit. Ich habe sie im Verdacht, dass sie deshalb nicht fragt, weil es ihr so angenehmer ist. Mit dem Aufräumen hat sie es niemals allzu genau genommen; hier erst recht nicht. Es wäre lächerlich von ihr zu ver­langen, dass sie den Kohlenstaub stündlich von den Möbeln fegt. Sie ist zufrieden, ich sehe es ihr an. Und der Student läuft täglich pfeifend die Kellertreppe hinauf und kommt abends wieder. Nachts höre ich ihn tief und regelmäßig atmen. Ich wollte, er brächte eines Tages ein Mädchen mit, dem es auffällig erschiene, dass er im Kel­ler wohnt, aber er bringt kein Mädchen mit.
Und auch sonst fragt niemand. Die Kohlenmänner, die ihre Lasten mit lautem Gepolter links und rechts in den Kellern abladen, ziehen die Mützen und grüßen, wenn ich ihnen auf der Treppe begegne. Oft nehmen sie die Säcke ab und bleiben stehen, bis ich an ihnen vorbei bin. Auch der Hausbesorger grüßt freundlich, wenn er mich sieht, ehe ich zum Tor hinausgehe. Ich dachte zuerst einen Augen­blick lang, dass er freundlicher grüße als bisher, aber es war eine Einbildung. Es erscheint einem manches freundlicher, wenn man aus dem Keller steigt.
Auf der Straße bleibe ich stehen und reinige meinen Mangel vom Kohlenstaub, aber es bleibt nur wenig daran haften. Es ist auch mein Wintermantel, und er ist dunkel. In der Straßenbahn über­rascht es mich, dass der Schaffner mich behandelt wie die übrigen Fahrgäste und niemand von mir abrückt. Ich frage mich, wie es sein soll, wenn ich im Kanal wohnen werde. Denn ich mache mich lang­sam mit diesem Gedanken vertraut.
Seit ich im Keller wohne, gehe ich auch an manchen Abenden wie­der ins Konzert. Meist samstags, aber auch öfter unter der Woche. Ich konnte es schließlich auch dadurch, dass ich nicht ging, nicht hindern, dass ich eines Tages im Keller war. Ich wundere mich jetzt manchmal über meine Selbstvorwürfe, über all die Dinge, mit de­nen ich diesen Abstieg zu Beginn in Beziehung brachte. Zu Beginn dachte ich immer: „Wäre ich nur nicht ins Konzert gegangen oder hinüber auf ein Glas Wein!“ Das denke ich jetzt nicht mehr. Seit ich im Keller bin, bin ich ganz beruhigt und gehe um Wein, sobald ich danach Lust habe. Es wäre sinnlos, die Dämpfe im Kanal zu fürchten, denn dann müsste ich ja ebenso das Feuer im Innern der Erde zu fürchten beginnen — es gibt zu vieles, wovor ich Furcht ha­ben müsste. Und selbst wenn ich immer zu Hause bliebe und keinen Schritt mehr auf die Gasse täte, würde ich eines Tages im Kanal sein.
Ich frage mich nur, was meine Aufräumefrau dazu sagen wird. Es würde sie jedenfalls auch des Lüftens entheben. Und der Student stiege pfeifend durch die Kanalluken hinauf- und wieder hinunter. Ich frage mich auch, wie es dann mit dem Konzert sein soll und mit dem Glas Wein. Und wenn es dem Studenten gerade dann einfiele, ein Mädchen mitzubringen? Ich frage mich, ob meine Zimmer auch im Kanal noch dieselben sein werden. Bisher sind sie es, aber im Kanal hört das Haus auf. Und ich kann mir nicht denken, dass die Einteilung in Zimmer und Küche und Salon und Zimmer des Stu­denten bis ins Erdinnere geht.
Aber bisher ist alles unverändert. Die rote Wandbespannung und die Truhe davor, der Gang zur Küche, jedes Bild an der Wand, die alten Klubsessel und die Bücherregale — jedes Buch darinnen. Drau­ßen die Brotdose und die Vorhänge an den Fenstern.
Die Fenster allerdings, die Fenster sind verändert. Aber um diese Zeit hielt ich mich meistens in der Küche auf, und das Küchenfenster ging seit jeher auf den Flur. Es war immer vergittert. Ich habe kei­nen Grund, deshalb zum Hausbesorger zu gehen, und noch weniger wegen des veränderten Blicks. Er könnte mir mit Recht sagen, dass ein Blick nicht zur Wohnung gehöre, die Miete beziehe sich auf die Größe, aber nicht auf den Blick. Er könnte mir sagen, dass mein Blick meine Sache sei.
Und ich gehe auch nicht zu ihm, ich bin froh, solange er freundlich ist. Das einzige, was ich einwenden könnte, wäre vielleicht, dass die Fenster um die Hälfte kleiner sind. Aber da könnte er mir wieder­um entgegnen, dass es im Keller nicht anders möglich sei. Und dar­auf wüsste ich keine Antwort. Ich könnte ja nicht sagen, dass ich es nicht gewohnt bin, weil ich noch vor kurzem im vierten Stock ge­wohnt habe. Da hätte ich mich schon im dritten Stock beschweren müssen. Jetzt ist es zu spät.

Results (English) 1:

I live since yesterday a stock lower. I want to say it loud, but I live deeper. I therefore not according to say it because I'm not relocated. I got last night from the concert home as usual Saturday night, and went up the stairs, after I had previously blocked the gate and pressed the light button. I went upstairs clueless - the lift is since the war not in operation - and when I had arrived on the third floor, I thought: "I wish I was here!" and turned me down for a moment on the wall next to the lift door. Usually a kind of exhaustion that sometimes so far leads, I think I should have gone four stairs falls over me on the third floor. But I didn't think that this time, I knew that I had still one floor above me. I therefore opened his eyes again, to go up the last stairs and saw my nametag at the door left of the lift in the same moment. Had I been wrong yet and had gone four stairs? I wanted to see on the Panel referred to the floor, but just as the lights went out. Because the light button on the other side of the hallway, I went two steps to my front door in the dark and locked up. To my door? But which door should be there, if my name it was? I had to have just been four stairs. The door opened immediately without resistance, I found the switch and was in the lighted Hall, in my Hall, and everything was as usual: the Red wallpapers, which I already had to want to change, and the Bank, which had moved out and left the gang to the kitchen. Everything was as usual. In the kitchen was the bread, I no longer ate for dinner, still in the lunch box. It was about unchanged. I cut off a piece of bread and began to eat, but suddenly remembered that I had not closed the door to the hallway, I was entered as a, and went back to the entrance to close it. I saw it in the light that fell from the Hall on the same floor, the Panel, which described the floor. Where: third floor. I ran out, pressed the light button and read it again. Then I read the name plates on the other doors. There were the names of people who had previously lived under me. I wanted to go up the stairs, to convince me, who now lived alongside the people, who had lived next to me, so far whether now really the doctor who previously lived under me, lived above me, but suddenly so dimly felt that I... had to go to bed Since then I lie awake and think about what you want to be tomorrow. From time to time, I'm still lured to stand up and to go up and give me confidence. But I feel too weak, and it could also be that the light in the hallway upstairs one woke up and came out and asked me: "What you are looking for here?" And I'm afraid this question, asked by one of my former neighbors, so much rather be me, even though I know that it will be even more difficult during daylight hours to go up. Next door, I hear the breaths of the student, who lives with me; He is a shipbuilding student, and he breathes deeply and evenly. He has no idea of what happened. He has no idea, and I'm lying here awake. I wonder whether I'll ask him tomorrow. He is little, and he has been at home likely, while I was in the concert. He would know. Maybe I'm asking on space woman. No. I'm not going there. How should I ask someone, who does not ask me? How should I go to him and tell him:"You may know whether I lived yesterday yet a stairs higher?" And what should he say? My hope is that someone will ask me that tomorrow someone will ask me: "Excuse me, but lived yesterday yet a stock higher?" But as I know my up space woman, will not ask. Or of one of my former neighbors: "You lived yesterday not next to us?" Or one of my new neighbors. But they all will not ask how I know them. And then me nothing left than to do so, as if I had my life long already a stock lower used. I wonder what would have happened if I had left the concert. But this question today was as futile as all other issues. I want to try to go to sleep.I'm living in the basement. It has the advantage that marry up space no longer must seek down the coal, we have next door, and she seems very happy with it. I have the suspicion that she therefore does not ask, because it is so pleasant to you. With the maid, she has taken it never too precisely; certainly not here. It would be ridiculous to demand that she hourly sweeps the coal dust from the furniture. She is happy, I can see it her. And the student daily whistling runs up the basement stairs and come back in the evening. At night I hear him breathe deeply and regularly. I wanted him to bring with one day a girl, it would appear the obvious, that he lives in the basement, but he brings with him a girl. And anyway, no one asks. The coal men unload their burdens with loud rumbling left and right in the cellars, remove the caps and salute when I meet them on the stairs. Often, remove the bags and stand still until I'm over them. Also the caretaker greets friendly when he sees me, before I go to the gate. First for a moment I thought that he friendly greetings than in the past, but it was a conceit. It appears friendly, some one when you climb out of the cellar. I stop on the road and my lack of the coal dust to clean, but it stays just because. It is also my winter coat, and it is dark. In tram, it surprised me that the conductor treated me like the other passengers and nobody moves away from me. I wonder how it should be, if I'm going to live in the channel. Because I'm familiar slow with that in mind. Since I live in the basement, I'm back in the concert also on some evenings. Most Saturdays, but more often during the week. I could finally also by the fact that I did not go, do not prevent that I was one day in the basement. I now sometimes wonder about my own allegations, about all the things that I brought this relegation beginning in relationship. At the beginning I always thought: "I would not have gone only in the concert or over a glass of wine!" I no longer think so. Since I'm in the basement, I am quite calm and go to wine, as soon as I feel like after that. It would be pointless to fear the fumes in the channel, because then I would start to fear Yes as the fire in the Interior of the Earth - there is too much of what I would need to have fear. And even if I stayed at home and on the street did not step, I would be one day in the channel. I just wonder what will tell my on space woman. It would dismiss them anyway, even ventilation. And the student approach routes down whistling upwards and back through the channel hatches. I also wonder how it should be with the concert and with the glass of wine. And if it just then fall the students, bring a girl? I wonder whether my room also in the channel will be same. So far, they are there, but in the channel to stop the House. And I can not think, that the layout of rooms, kitchen and salon and room of the students goes up in the bowels of the Earth. But so far everything is unchanged. The Red wall covering and the chest before, going to the kitchen, each picture on the wall, the old Club chairs and bookshelves - each book therein. Outside the lunch box and the curtains on the Windows. The window however, the Windows are changed. But this time, I considered myself most of the time in the kitchen, and the kitchen window went has always been on the floor. It was always grate. I have no reason to go therefore to the caretaker and even less because of the altered gaze. He could tell me with right a views don't belong to the apartment, rent refers to the size, but not at the sight. He could tell me that my look was my thing. And I don't go to him, I'm happy, as long as it is friendly. The only thing I could argue, might be that the window to half are smaller. But since he could say me again unless not otherwise possible in the basement. And that I know no answer. Yes, I could say that I am not, because I have lived until recently in the fourth floor. Since I would need to complain already on the third floor. Now, it's too late.

Results (English) 2:

I live yesterday on the floor below. I do not want it loud sa conditions, but I live deeper. I want it why not say it out loud because I'm not moved. I arrived yesterday evening from the concert home, as usual, on Saturday evening, and went up the stairs after I had unlocked the door and pressed the light button. I was unaware of the stairs - the lift is not in operation since the war - , and as I reached the third floor, I thought: " I wish I were here already! " and leaned for a moment on the wall next the elevator door. Usually comes over me on the third floor of a kind, he added, leading sometimes to the point that I think I would be gone four flights of stairs. But I did not think this time, I knew I still had one floor above me. I therefore opened my eyes to hinaufzu the last flight of stairs to go, and looked at the same moment my name tag on the door left of the lift. Had I made ​​a mistake and I had gone four flights of stairs? I wanted to look at the blackboard, the floor designated factory, but just as the lights went out. Since the light button on the other side of the hallway, I walked the two steps up to my door in the dark and unlocked the door. To my door? But which door should be there because when my name was that? I had just gone but his four flights of stairs. The door opened and the same without resistance, I found the switch and stood in the lighted hall, in front of my room, and everything was as usual: the red wallpaper, which I had long switch want, and the bank, which was moved from the left and going to the kitchen. Everything was as usual. The kitchen was the bread that I had not eaten for dinner, even in the lunchbox. It was all the same. I cut a piece of bread and began to eat, but suddenly remembered that I had the door to the hallway not closed when I had come in, and went back into the hall to close it. And I saw the light that fell from the hall into the hall, blackboard, described the floor. There stood: Third floor. I ran out, pressed the light button and read it again. Then I read the name plates on the other doors. There were the names of people who had previously lived below me. I would then go up the stairs to convince me, who now lived next door to the people who had previously lived next to me, whether it really is the doctor who had previously lived below me, lived above me, but suddenly felt so weak, I had to go to bed ... Since then I lie awake and think about what is to be tomorrow. From time to time, I'm still tempted to get up and go up and me reassurance. But I feel too weak, and it could also be that of the light in the hallway up there one woke up and came out and asked me: " What are you doing here " This question, asked by one of my former neighbors, I'm afraid so much that I lie better, even though I know that it will be even harder during daylight hours to go up. Next door I hear the breathing of the student who lives with me; he's shipbuilding student, and he breathes deeply and evenly. He has no idea of what happened. He has no idea, and I lie awake here. I wonder if I'll ask him tomorrow. He goes from a little, and he's probably at home ge beings, while I was at the concert. He ought to know. Maybe I can ask the charwoman. No. I will not do it. How was I supposed to ask someone who does not ask me? How should I approach him and tell him: " Perhaps you know if I have not lived up stairs yesterday? " And what to say to that? My hope is that someone will ask me, that someone will ask me tomorrow: " Excuse me, but you did not live yesterday, one floor up? " But how do I know my charwoman, they will not ask. Or one of my former neighbors: " Do not yesterday were residing next to us? " Or one of my new neighbors. But as I know, they will not ask all. And then I have no choice but to act as if I had lived my life already one floor down. I wonder what would have happened if I had left the concert. But this question has become today at both pathetic and all other issues. I want to try to sleep. I now live in the basement. It has the advantage that my on premises woman no longer has to seek down the coals, we have next door, and she seems quite happy with it. I have suspected that they do not therefore asks, because it is their so enjoyable. With the clean up has never taken it too closely; here only not quite. It would be ridiculous of her ver long that they hourly sweeps the coal dust from the furniture. She is happy, I see it in her. And the student runs daily whistling the basement stairs and come back in the evening. At night I hear him breathing deeply and regularly. I wish he would bring one day a girl, it would seem the conspicuous that they Kel ler lives, but he brings a girl with. And nobody else asks. The coal men unload their burdens with a loud clatter left and right in the cellars, pull the caps and greet you when I meet them on the stairs. They often take the sacks and remain standing until I'm past them. Also, the caretaker friendly greeting when he sees me before I go to the gate. I thought at first eye view long that he greet friendly than before, but it was a conceit. It seems a much friendlier when you climb out of the cellar. On the road, I stop and clean my lack of coal dust, but it adheres very little about it. It is also my winter coat, and it is dark. On the tram over it surprised me that the conductor treated me like the other passengers and no one moves away from me. I wonder how it will be when I will dwell in the channel. Cause I'm long sam familiar with this idea. Since I live in the basement, I go as some nights of the concert. Most Saturdays, but more often during the week. I could finally also the fact that I did not go, do not prevent that one day I was in the basement. I wonder now sometimes my self-reproach, about all the things that de I NEN this descent at the beginning brought into relationship. At the beginning I always thought: " If I had not gone to a concert or just over a glass of wine! " I do not think anymore. Since I'm in the basement, I am very calm and go to wine as soon as I would like it. It would be pointless to fear the vapors in the channel, because then I would have just as the fire in the interior of the earth begin to fear - there are too many things, from what I fear ha ben would. And even if I always stayed at home and did not take another step into the street, I would one day be in the channel. I just wonder what will tell my charwoman to do so. It would in any case exempt also airing. And the student would rise whistling through the sewer manholes up - and down again. I also wonder how it will then be with the concert and with the glass of wine. And if it just then could think of the students to bring a girl? I wonder if my room will still be the same also in the channel. So far they are, but in the channel stops the house. And I can not think that the division into room and kitchen and lounge and rooms of Stu dents goes up into the earth. But everything has changed. The red wall covering and the chest against the passage to the kitchen, every picture on the wall, the old lounge chair and bookshelves - every book in it. Drava Shen lunch box and the curtains on the windows. The windows, however, the windows are changed. But at this time I thought I was usually in the kitchen, and the kitchen window was always been on the corridor. It was always barred. I kei nen reason why to go for caretaker, and even less because of the changing moment. He could tell me rightly, that view does not belong to the apartment, the rent refers to the size but not the view. He could tell me that my view was my thing. And I do not like him, I'm happy as long as he is friendly. The only thing I could argue, might be that the windows by half smaller. But as he could back to me to reply that it was not possible otherwise in the basement. And is on I can not think of an answer. I could not say that I'm not used to it, because I have recently ge on the fourth floor so have lives. I would have had to complain already on the third floor. Now it's too late.

Results (English) 3:

Ich live since yesterday a stick more deeply. I do not want to say it loud, but I live more deeply. I do not want to say it loud, because I does not move am. I came yesterday in the evening from the concert home, as usual Saturday in the evening, and ascended the stairs, after I had unlocked and on the light button had pressed the gate before.I ascended unsuspectingly the stairs — which are not elevator since the war in enterprise —, and as I had arrived in the third stick, thought I: „I wanted, I would be already here! “leaned and for a moment to the wall beside the elevator door. Usually in the third stick a kind of exhaustion, which leads sometimes so far, attacks me that I think,I must have gone already four to stairs. But I did not think this time, I knew that I had still another floor over me. I opened therefore the eyes again, in order to ascend the last stairs, and saw in the same instant my name plate at the door left from the elevator. Had I erred and already four stairs had gone myself nevertheless? I wanted to look on the board,those the floor designated, but straight went there the light aus.
the light button on the other side of the corridor is there, went I the two steps up to my door in the dark and unlocked. Up to my door? But which door should be it, if my name stood to it? I had just nevertheless already four stairs gone sein.
the door opened also directly without resistance,I found the switch and was located in the illuminated anteroom, in my anteroom, and everything was as usual: the red wallpapers, which I for a long time to change had wanted, and the bank, which had moved to it, and on the left of the course to the kitchen. Everything was as usual. In the kitchen bread, which I had not no more eaten with dinner, lay still in the lunch box. It was unchanged everything.I cut a piece off bread and began to eat, reminded me however suddenly that I had not closed the door to the corridor, when I had come in and decreased in the anteroom, around her too schließen.
thereby saw I in the light, which fell from the anteroom on the corridor the board, which marked the floor. There stood: Third stick. I ran out,it pressed again on the light button and read. Then I read the name plates on the remaining doors. Were the names of the people, which had so far under me used to. I wanted to then ascend the staircases, in order to convince me, who lived now beside the people, which had so far beside me used to whether now really the physician, who had so far under me used to over me lived,it felt me however suddenly so weakly that I had to go to bed…
I lie since then awake and think about it, what tomorrow is to become. Occasionally I am still enticed to rise and ascend and for me certainty provide. But I feel too weakly, and it could also be that from the light in the corridor up there an awaked would come out and asked me:„Which you look for here? “And I am afraid this question, posed by one of my past neighbours, so much that I remain rather lying, although I hear next door white that it will be still more difficult with daylight, hinaufzugehen.
I the breaths of the student, who lives with me; he is a student of building of ships, and he breathes deeply and evenly. It has no idea of what happened.It has no idea, and I lie here awake. I ask myself whether I will ask him tomorrow. It goes out little, and he was probable at home, while I was in the concert. He would have to know it. Perhaps I ask also the Aufräumefrau.
no. I will not do it. How should I ask someone, which does not ask me? As I should go toward him and tell him:
„Knowledge it perhaps whether I still another stairs did not live yesterday more highly? “And which he is to say on it? My hope remains that someone will ask me that someone will ask me tomorrow: „Forgiving you, but you not yesterday still another stick lived more highly? “However as I mean clearing up woman know, her will not ask. Or one of my former neighbours:„You did not live yesterday still beside us? “Or one of my new neighbours. But like I it know, her all will not ask. And then nothing remains for me to do as so as if I would have my life a stick more deeply gewohnt.
I long already ask myself, what would have happened, if I had left the concert.But this question became just as idle from today on as all other questions. I want to fall asleep versuchen.

Ich live now in the cellar. It has the advantage that my clearing up woman does not have to down-endeavor no more around the coals, we has it next door, and it seems completely content thereby. I have it in the suspicion that she does not ask, because it is so more pleasant their.With clearing up it has it never all too strictly speaking; here less than ever. It would be to be required ridiculously from it to that it sweeps the coal dust hourly by furniture. It is content, I views it to it. And the student runs up daily whistling the cellar stairs and comes back in the evening. At night I hear it breathe deeply and regularly. I wanted,it would also bring one day a girl, who would appear remarkable it the fact that he lives in the cellar, but he does not bring a girl mit.
and also otherwise does not ask anybody. The coal men, who unload their loads with loud polarizing on the left and on the right in the cellars, pull the hats and greet, if I meet them on the stairs. Often they remove the bags and stop, until I past am at them.Also the Hausbesorger greets friendly, if it sees me, before I go out to the gate. I thought first one instant long that he friendlier greet than so far, but it was a fancy. It appears friendlier some, if one stops from the cellar steigt.
on the road I and clean mean lack of the coal dust, but it remains to it to stick only little.It is also my winter coat, and it is dark. In the tram it surprises me that the conductor moves away me treated like the remaining passengers and nobody from me. I ask myself, how it is to be, if I will live in the channel. Because I make myself slowly with this thought vertraut.
since I in the cellar live, go I also in some evenings again into the concert.Usually Saturday, in addition, more frequently during the week. I could finally also not prevent it thereby that I did not go, that I was one day in the cellar. I am surprised now sometimes at my self-reproaches, at all the things, with which I brought this descent at the beginning in relationship. At the beginning I always thought:„I would not have gone into the concert or over there on a glass of wine! “I do not think now no more. Since I am in the cellar, I am completely reassuring and go around wine, as soon as I have thereafter desire. It would be senseless to be afraid steams in the channel because then I would have to begin the fire to be afraid yes likewise inside the earth — there is too much, of which I must have fear.And even if I remained always at home and did no more step on the lane, I became one day in the channel sein.
I ask myself only, what will say my clearing up woman to it. It would relieve it anyhow also ventilating. And the student would descend whistling by the channel hatches up and again. I ask myself also, like it then with the concert to be is and with the glass of wine.And if it occurred to the student straight then to bring along a girl? I ask myself whether my rooms will be also in the channel still the same. So far they are it, but in the channel the house stops. And I cannot imagine that the organization into rooms and kitchen and salon and room of the student in the interior of the earth geht.
however so far are everything invariably.The red wall covering and the chest before it, the course to the kitchen, each picture at the wall, the old club chairs and the bookshelves — each book inside. Outside the lunch box and the curtains at the Fenstern.
the windows however, which are windows changed. But at this time I mostly was in the kitchen, and the kitchen window went since always on the corridor.It was always latticed. I do not have a reason to go therefore to the Hausbesorger and still less because of the changed view. He could say with good reason that a view did not belong to the apartment, the rent to me refers to the size, but not on the view. He could tell me that my view my thing does not go sei.
and I also to it, I am gladly, as long as it is friendly.Perhaps the only one, which I could object, would be that the windows are smaller around half. But there it could answer to me again that it was not differently possible in the cellar. And whereupon I would not know an answer. I could not say that I am not used to it, because I have still recently in the fourth stick used to.There I would have already had myself to weight in the third stick. Now it is too late.