CHAPTER XIII
THE FIRST BOLT
The sound of the train’s brakes shakes Sissi; she opens her eyes and sees the blue sign along the tracks with the name of her city on it.
She stands up with mechanical movements, picks up her bag and walks towards the automatic doors looking into the void. A little boy waiting for his mother moves to the side to let her pass, she goes down the steps of the train and looks around, desolate.
The station is sleepy; under the tired late afternoon sun it seems that everything moves in slow motion. Sissi still dares to hope that it was only a false alarm, a kind of paranoia dictated by her fantasies and the negative experience she had experienced when she came into contact with that typewriter, which had almost bewitched her.
She would be happy to have made a use
