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Another Train Station at Dawnby Charlie
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Besides, our friend Kevin awaited somewhere over the alps, so we boarded another dirty Italian train, said one more awkward hello-goodbye to dirty Genoa, which is still paying its karmic debt for giving the new world Chris Columbus, I guess, and headed for an unanticipated fling with Milan which, unbeknownst to me, is Gotham City. Soot black, gothic, falling apart, under construction, and full of cool pants, the coolest pants I've ever seen. I'm sending my tailor to Milan when my ship comes in, and you'll never hear me cast a sartorial lament again.
Milan to fair Verona, dead of night. Eerie quiet at the end of a never-ending day, and a first-class, red velvet compartment—little did we know—a whole first class car all to ourselves. Pull the seats down flat, spread out the sleeping bag, resting at last. |
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