Equilibrium
We landed at Gatwick and had a few hours to ourselves before the night train left for Dover. The Skytrain depot, in New York, was a bit off the beaten path, but Victoria Station in England was welcoming. I said I'd rather stay; though it was cold I found a personal lavatory with a hot shower and a locked door and stayed there an hour. My ears didn't adjust well, and the flooring of Victoria felt uneasy. An hour later I'd forgotten about it and she still hadn't returned. It was something about the music people she wanted to see, in London, but I was intent on not missing that train south, and figured she'd arrive just in time to make the next leg of our journey to Rome together. There was a statute about this, and we were that much further than across state lines together, what with in other countries and such. I found out that she knew I got arousals when I gave her back massages, but that hadn't happened yet and I did meet a girl on one of the trains from Illinois, and had them giving her massages -- same circumstance; I was idiot too young to recognize better opportunity and took it as another kind of love: the kind you let go of, and I did.

We ignored London entirely, and in Paris, we walked partway and rode another until the southernmost reach of the city, and were finally on a highway interchange, where a fellow who spoke italian picked us up and brought us through Lyon, skirting Geneve, and south again to Milano. The three of us stayed near Lyon for the night; she and I slept in the hay in the back of his truck -- he was cordial and proper, and between her spanish and my french, we had pleasant three-way conversation throughout the trip, and exchanged postal address before saying goodbye at the train station in Milano. He had been on empty return from Le Louvre where he had delivered picture frames.

The cars on the train were finished in mostly wood on the interior; the lights were a bit dim and it was late -- I took no further notice until we reached Rome, towards daybreak. Onto public transportation again, we found the Piazza Della Sporte -- at some point I thought I was back at Bradley, because I'd seen the BDL ticket on her suitcase and had forgotten we were an ocean away from there. I slept on the grounds of the sports arena, and looked for her when I awoke in late afternoon -- she had found something social to do, and I do not know when it was that she slept, finally.