Venice to Milan

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When I again open my eyes the three empty seats are taken and the car is full. On the side of me sits an old gray haired Italian man with his wife sitting across from him and in front of me a college aged young woman, wearing sunglasses and hair tucked into a knit hat intensely focused on her computer clacking away. They must be family.

Feeling my eyes on her quickly looking up. "Buonasera."

Glancing at my watch, not sure of the actual time since my life is a one big blur. I see this genuinely sweet smile when I look up again. Which I interpret as pity. I don't need pity. Immediately she starts a flurry of speech that to me is Greek but since we're in Italy......

"English." I spit out with contempt as if she wouldn't understand me, leaving my spoken words limited.

"Ah, no worries. I was asking if Milan was your destination and if you would like something to eat?" As she pulls out a couple of pre-cut sandwiches and a few small containers out of a paper bag, placing them on the narrow table that spans our seats.

Taken aback by her comment asking if I wanted food. Do I look fucking homeless, sweetie? Do you know how much I'm worth?

"Does it look like I need your food?" sounding  crisp. I can see a flash in her eyes and seems hurt by my words, quickly regaining her composure. I think she's either dense or an airhead only to have her put me in my place with a verbal yet curt response.

"I meant no offense. Might I suggest, you ignore me and close your eyes to get more sleep because you're being a Crabby-Craig. By the way, your rude comment was completely unwarranted."

I sit stunned saying nothing as she proceeds to ignore me and speak with the Italian couple sitting with us. Watching the older lady pulling open the containers of food. Damn it all looks and smells good.

Realizing that I am hungry "Look, let me apologize. I've spent a lot of time on trains lately and lacking a decent night's sleep, it's been a while. Lashing out when you're only trying to be kind, was out of line." Shit this is the most I've spoken to anyone in weeks, much less apologize.

"Or a decent meal." seeing her smirk " I, like you have ridden the rails. Thank you. Now let's move beyond this moment, shall we. Again I'll ask, would you care for something to eat? My friend has a small cafe in Venice, her husband loaded me up with food with the intent I share." Turning to the older couple seated with us, she hands the woman a couple of cardboard plates and plastic forks. Placing a plate with a fork closer to me, yet not in front of me. "It would be wonderful if you joined us. Plus I don't want to have to cart around leftovers." pulling her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, winking at me. About that time the older gentleman says something to the young girl followed up by asking me. "Would like a Prosecco to go with your meal?" cutting me a small smile.

I catch myself smiling at her as I slide the plate and fork closer to me. It seems I have no choice which I find amusing and strangely warmhearted. Nodding to them, he stands to leave I offer up a 50euro from my breast pocket, blurting out what sounds like something obscene. Shaking his head, refusing my money as he walks toward the lounge. "I see refusals are not popular." I find myself flush in the face of kindness of strangers.

"Oh. Saying no is quite popular, though when it comes to hospitality or sharing food, for some it's insulting to refuse even if they're not hungry."

"Well it sounds like an offer I shouldn't refuse."

I say nothing until the guy returns with the Prosecco. Introducing myself to everyone. "I'm Chris." Followed by nods and introductions while divvying up the food.

By the time we pull into Milan Centrale, not only are the older Italian couple Augusto and Luciana are speaking in English, which they discreetly hid until they felt more comfortable with me. Augusto spent some time attempting to teach me some choice phrases in Italian while Luciana showed Anastasia and me pictures of her family and grandchildren, all off her smart-phone.  I feel the pang of how lonely I really am. Despite numbing myself with drugs these feeling have bubbled up to the surface. Augusto and Luciana remind me so much of my grandparents. Who loved and supported me during my times of trouble while I thanked them by cutting them out of my life, as I did with the rest of my family. If it wasn't for Taylor intervening they would continue to stalk me by calling every two minutes.  

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