Here Are Monsters

On Tuesday the 15th of July he took a train to Torino via Milano, second class compartment sitting, he thought that it was a nice negotiation between the virtuous communist austerity and the necessity of comfort. He wasn’t in Italy because he had been sent by the government of Gheorghiu Dej, but because of his publications in both fields: Mathematics and Linguistics. The government in question was highly suspicious of any of its nationals abroad but his academic standing and dual citizenship meant that there was little short of prison they could do to prevent this. Professor Felso was always cautious to never engage publicly in anything remotely connected to politics and international affairs, a cautious man. He always protested to his contentment teaching and that life was good in communist Romania. Of course the blue blood of his Italian mother would always make him suspicious for true Bolshevik reds but his records during the war and after showed his profound love for Romania although not compulsively as a communist people’s republic but he kept that silent, now was not the time. He snuggled against the window side of the bench after storing his small luggage in the overhead nets opposite himself so that he could keep an eye on it. Theft was always a risk and such a bother. He pulled a small format book from his coat pocket and smoothed the linen of his pants before sitting to read off the slow voyage. The suit had been an unusual indulgence particularly since the rationing tickets for such cloth were unbelievably rare, but Rome was stifling and he had needed to feel smart and sexy, vanitas is a demanding companion. The tailor had done a splendid job cutting the fine line between elegance and comfort and the light clear cloth felt like he wasn’t wearing anything, the tailored white silk shirt was absolutely too much but Pierluigi, his roman companion had judged it unavoidable and that was more than enough reason to be a little extra. The carriage shuddered a couple of times and the shrill ring of the station master’s whistle was heard as they rolled onward to the increasing rhythm of the steel wheels on the rails sections. He opened Razza e storia e altri studi antropologici to the first page of the book, and forgot everything about his surroundings. Some indefinite amount of time later, shortly after a provincial stop there was a flurry of movement he barely noticed and someone settled opposite him. He had mumbled a distracted ‘Salve’ in reply to the salutation of the other and continued his uninterrupted lecture. The sound of the wheels on the tracks increased to some constant speed and the juddering carriage proceeded toward Milano Centrale and on to Torino.