We take a bus to Y.’s school. I clear a lot of things out of my bags and put them down. I put some of it back in. The bus stops and we have to get off. I leave the rubbish behind and hear the bus driver say something. We walk along a path. I stop at an open garage. Our car is parked in it, the boot no longer closes and I hang a blanket over it. I have parts of my mother's coffee machine in my hands. Would these also fit on our machine? My mobile phone is lying a bit further away and I hear my mother's voice: "Hello, pick up." I tell N. to switch off the mobile phone. We have to go, we only have three minutes left. The children walk slowly ahead. I'm wearing white running shorts over my trousers. Strangely sporty. I start running but can't see properly. I bend down under a barrier. N. calls me. Or I call her. I tell her that I'm coming to a small film festival in Munich on the 7th and whether she has time to see me. She doesn't answer. Silence, a long silence. She must be unsettled. Too touched. I ask, jokingly, if she is still there. I hear my own voice through the phone or is it N.’s husband's? C. is lying on top of me and says that she loves me. She probably senses my love for N. I drive through a tunnel. It's 10.00 am. We have to go to school.