Marc saw us off at the train station. We were heading to Florence. We had plenty of time until departure, but we noticed the schedule board wasn’t showing our train. Twenty minutes to the departure time, we asked the information desk in panic. He told us the train we were supposed to catch was departing from a different station, and it will take about 15 minutes in smooth traffic. We got in a taxi and told the driver about our desperate situation. The road was filled with other taxis and cars, and I was visibly distraught. Maya, for some reason, was dead silent. We arrived at the right station a minute before the departure time. When we found the platform, the train started moving. We ran with all our might until the conductor at the door of the last carriage saw us. He reached his hand to us as if it was an everyday incident, and pulled our bags, then our bodies on board one by one. We stood at the deck for a few minutes to catch our breath, then looked at each other. The next moment we burst into laughter.
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