I wake up at six in the morning with a negative print of the pillow on his left cheek. I have breakfast and go to the bathroom. At six-forty are already riding my bike. The train is at six fifty-two (No. 20751 from Mantua to Venice). Average use of five to seven minutes to reach the station, now there I made seven. When I arrive the train is already there, standing like a quail in the bushes of the dry desert station. Throw the bike on the fence of the railway without even closing it with the red lock and run towards the track access. Five meters from the nearest door of the train, it begins to move slowly as if to tease me and then goes away without me in her belly. I look up to heaven, football damp air and watch the clock of the station are six fifty, two minutes before the time marked on the board faded. I think I enjoy of waiting to obliterate my monthly subscription of new Trinca, but of course the stupid yellow boxes do not know turn to function. So it happens that I find myself well fit to the conductor of the direct n ° 5563 of seven sixteen. I find I write something in pen on a piece of paper (the value of fifty-eight euro and fifty cents) that I just delivered by providing the necessary explanations and then I sit in front of him.
The hands of the controller begins to check the inside of the nose of the controller.
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