Raindrops sting the windowpane of our living room. A lone Christmas tree rolls off the sidewalk, propelled by the winds. Buses waver around the moving object onto the other side of the street. A few teenagers pass by with too-cool-to-notice detachment oozing out of their steps.
It doesn't take long for a father taking his two children to school to prop his bicycle on a streetlamp and wrangle the tree back to its proper place with the other discarded trees waiting to be picked up by the Stadtwerk.
The man's two children stand bored by their bikes, watching their father listlessly while rain drips down from their helmets onto their noses.
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