the train station, that night, there were two.
One the one hand and the other one. A to La Spezia to Genoa and one.
From the dark sea of \u200b\u200bGenoa beat rhythmically rocks down below.
the side of La Spezia, the country quiet, the cone of light from a lamp post, the embrace of shadow of the mountains.
Sometimes we take a look threw, of course. Occasionally one of us lit a straw. For a moment the flame of Bic carved features in a flash yellow, momentary reflection dazzled eyes in an instant of retinal persistence.
If we were both waiting for the same train we might have exchanged a few words. We were however divided by four tracks from our being and for that night, in different places. Sometimes
breathed the breath of two ashen galleries. One of us would be the first to leave.
