(A) Memory

I feel the touch of silk on a steel bar that I hold on to because I'm climbing up the stairs of the subway station and lately my knees have been quite hesitant to tread in the city life.

Everyone is rushing so stressed, like they're running from an unstoppable train...

Just moments ago, the memories paraded beyond my eyes in a kind of military march, station to station: the meeting point where I finally meet the one; the place where all dreams were supposed to come true and, nearby, the sad horrors houses; the place where all dreams are suffocated; the adventure of the unknown; the station that read "Love" on the subway's carriage window reflecting backwards the station's name and "we were so happy here"; once upon a time a kind of refuge and beautiful citywalks all the way down to the river.