So I’ve arrived at the station way, *way* too early. Thought it would take time to check in or whatever, but apprently, er, *not*. Here I sit, for another hour.
This bodes well.
There are only nine of us here. It could be the prologue to a play by Pirandello.
A old man in a dark overcoat a few seats down is reading a book in Hebrew, intently rereading certain passages from time to time.
It’s quiet in here.