November.
walk between the tracks of a station like many others. In the distance, the first Christmas lights. I lose myself in their brightness and that of everything around me, even more dazzling. Someone leaving, someone else just arrived. Who you meet casually, who would meet after who knows how long, who salutes, who uses only the old station as a refuge for the night and who wanders aimlessly.
take my bag and pull it a bit 'higher up, on his shoulders. Way, not too fast .. a little doubtful, without emotion, almost lost. I would like to cross, among the multitude. I would like to dispel this sense of tranquility almost too much that grips me and I hardly breathe. But you can not, at least not yet.
Lou Reed - Make up and stop thinking and get on my train.
Turin. A few weeks ago.
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