Urban Western
(Revenge. Each side counts its dead. Sniper rifle. On the train. Passing through customs. Flowers in their vases. (Pseudo-)leftist pamphlets)
At the end, I’m supposed to go with the customs agent to see his manager. He tells me to wait in the dining car. It seems empty at first, but all of the tables are taken. The bar stools are free, but some children playing in front of the bar have put their lottery cards on them.
I look out the window. A soft hill. This is the exact spot where, last year, the Vigilante launched his attack on us.
The train begins again. I look at a map. We have just left Buda, we are crossing a bridge, a long island, another bridge, before stopping again in Pest where, I hope, I will find the solution.