A/N: So here comes the translation of the second part. It is written about one year after the first July's Impression.

A July's Impression –

one year later

The sun shines greenly in the trees.

Still the sky is clouded.

It feels much warmer than 19 degrees Celsius.

Four people have been waiting for the bus arriving punctual this time – almost.

An old woman mistakes the time and looks at to wrong line.

A misunderstanding. Sheepish laughter.

Go six stations by that reeking bus.

There are no windows. Why not?

Everyone is silent.

An elder couple runs clumsily to the bus.

Just in time. The driver chuckles.

Subway.

A man lights a Lucky Strike, although smoking is not permitted.

Why do all garbage cans have ashtrays then?

Everyone is silent.

Go two stations by subway.

A Berliner has won the yellow jersey at the 7th stage.

Elation.

Or not?

A handful of little boys – Hertha BSC fans – are wrestling on the backseats.

The train is rocking.

People glare indignantly.

This time I open the door with only one hand.

The escalator is closed.

I ascend the stairs – I'm trying to take the stairs more frequently.

It is warm outside. Or am I just heated?

A tall blonde is smoking a cigarette.

And enters the solarium.

She tosses the whole cigarette onto the pavement.

On her left, a garbage can is hanging with the inscription:

Give your butt a home.

Thank you, BSR.

A fat man is making a phone call while riding his bike.

I pass a strange smelling baker's shop.

The old house at the crossroad has very beautiful bays.

Which style could it be?

I am silent.

Someone opens the door for me. I'm lucky.

That young guy in the elevator did not say Goodbye.

I wait ten minutes watching the street from the fifth floor.

On my way back.

My walkman does not work.

The battery is spent.

But I absolutely wanted to listen to Kid Rock. That song that always makes you sing along.

The song of Janine.

My train is just leaving.

Six minutes later the next arrives.

A woman feeds her child with pretzel sticks.

The babe does not want it and squeals at the top of its voice.

Again people look askance.

This time I take the escalator, for someone else has already started it.

Why wasting the energy then?

It's Sunday, 15th July 2001.

A huge poster yells at me:

Life isn't cheerless.