I could spend hours watching this girl writing something on the train, on her way to Milan. There's a huge and rather old-fashioned exercise book on her knees, and she keeps writing this endless piece I can only see as the greatest story ever told. That it could be a diary or a letter to a friend never enters my mind - not when I'm on the train.
Thursday, 25 October 2018
travelling notes (lxxiii)
I could spend hours watching this girl writing something on the train, on her way to Milan. There's a huge and rather old-fashioned exercise book on her knees, and she keeps writing this endless piece I can only see as the greatest story ever told. That it could be a diary or a letter to a friend never enters my mind - not when I'm on the train.
