Rosenheim, Germany

Night arrival by train on snow. Dark streets with ice and snow. People are cold, Are people cold? There is a strange niceness, an ice niceness on their faces.  Their expressions are smiling. Bavaria hides a sin.
All of us know its penitence.
No one is guilty if they were chosen by hell to come into the world.
Their music sounds strident and heartless for me but it appears to be cheerful for them. This music, music?, is the background of a rigid dancing, no rithm. I appear to see millions of dead people watching this grotesque ceremony.