A Train to Piccadilly

     A stupid rainy day. Another one, the umpteenth in Soviet Europe. It kindly keeps the dust down, but moving through the rubble is difficult: the risk is that of slipping and breaking a bone. I'm in the right alley. I can't see the door, though... Ah! There it is, at the end, behind those boards. Now it's only a question of grit--stepping into a future that sounds so surreal. But even so, l…