Student Journal IL PONTE

Monday Morning Stories


It was late evening; I was in a great hurry after finally finishing my last meetings of the day and exhaustedly and a bit chaotically I decided to run to the main railway station. I felt numb, suddenly everything was incredibly indifferent to me, those little cracks in the sidewalk which I like to observe, random street signs informing me about new restrictions, aggressive visual smog caused by the flashing billboards, basically all the essentials for a wannabe big city. But now, this all just did not matter, I wanted to leave it behind for today.

I arrived to the station and immediately noticed that at this time it is rather empty, lacking all those hectic and busy people wandering around curiously. Nobody asked me for change, even though I prepared some, just in case. A flashing neon light, the lateness of the train and my solitary thoughts were the only things keeping me company. Suddenly, I heard a strong, deafening noise that implied that a train, that obviously had seen better days, is incoming and bravely attempting to execute the notoriously known manoeuvre of braking.

My anxiety hit, so I just jump on and quickly look for an empty coupe that has its lights off. I swiftly dash through the wagons, just to realize I was not the only one looking for an empty coupe. So I ask this charming lady, sitting alone, whether I could join her and share the joy of travelling together. Unamused, she nods, and with a bitter expression on her face, probably borrowed from the ticket inspector, leans back against the window. Well, luckily she is not one of those talkative ones, so I just open my notebook and… realize my battery had died. Alright no worries, I will just plug my charger into the…hold on, there is no electricity in the train. It is time to sadly conclude, there is no Wi-Fi in here.

Turns out, I was wrong, the dazzling lady is, in fact, one of those talkative ones. She saw my misery and took the opportunity. I got a nice introduction to the “it is actually healthy not to use Wi-Fi all the time”. Well, let’s just try smiling and pretending that I am in fact, not the target of her lecture. However, I failed miserably, mainly because she continued and decided it is time to amuse me with her photography skills. I must admit, it was not that bad, maybe just maybe, she can be useful to me. I ask whether she wants to publish some of her photos in our magazine Il Ponte, but they ought to be connected to xenophobia, as that is our upcoming topic. Well, how to put it, her answer was not to a great degree satisfying, mainly, because I got to know that she was “not paying attention at biology, so xenophobia is not her thing”.

Her name is Mary; she is twenty-four years old, works two jobs, attends high school and has lived the last thirteen years without her parents. It is her senior year at high school and after she aims to fulfil her dream and buy a proper camera to take high-quality pictures.

I felt ashamed, I was quick to judge. She, I believe, lives up to her full current potential. She wanted to share, she wanted to forget for a second her reality and just let me experience her creative perception of the world.

It is Monday morning, 8am. Let’s begin this week with grace, humility and dignity.