When I was a child, a daughter of the Venetian mother and father of Tuscan living divided in two space-time dimensions: that of the school holidays in Tuscany and the Veneto. Every holiday is a bit 'long had the opportunity to run up (the way I always looked up) grandparents.
And the train was the magical union between the two worlds.
was often the grandmother to come and get me, or one of the youngest aunts. Those trips will be forever in my memory: we arrived at night and the station was waiting for his grandfather, load your bags on the bike and we went all to happy for me that was the real home.
Now the station is there, even been abandoned, no longer functions of time.
Why this sudden memory?
's novel Davanzo Companions to Quadrivio Zappata I found no trace of those emotions, "railway" (the title of the rest of us on the train
...): "A train in '57 was especially iron on iron unrolled its course without too much attention to those who were above that bounced to the rhythm of the trolleys that danced on the joints and sudden diversions of trade, which gave her rattling the pitch of a dirge heavy, rhythmic and soporific at the end. ... saw the colorful mix of green speed chasing a hypnotic bypassed and the rivers in a moment gave him the feeling of a run out of time and into the unknown. " And what it meant to travel by train as a boy for the protagonist, the author writes: "... felt that posting, as they were two temporal dimensions of phase and far apart, the two planets and not two separate places in the same country. "
Consume.
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