Among the travellers, I stand.
I watch the tracks and the perspective of where they come from. I cannot yet tell where it goes...
The smoke of the locomotive slowly invades my vision. The numerous cars suddenly become clearer.
The travellers aline one by one like a clock ticks and tacks.
The train is on time at the Lyon station...
It stops. Chaos follows. The inbounds mix with the outbounds. I can not see the tracks, only mix of women's hats, luggage, lovers kissing and kids running.
Where am I?
I'm petrified. Inside this busy movement of the masses, I stand and am observed by curious eyes.
Who am I?
It's too late.
