They got on at the Roma Ostiense stop one after the other, in silence. Both of them were looking down and, in silence, they sat down before the train left for Fiumicino. Then he opened a book and his eyes began to read quickly. I saw them following the words.
She, instead, was staring at him.
In the middle of all of the noise made by the train, that silence between them created an unusual oasis.
The ringing of the phone distracts him from the book. “We just got on the train. Yes. Yes, I understand. I will be there in the evening.” He hangs up the phone and continues to read.
In silence, she continues to stare at him.
Then she grabs his arm and makes him turn around. She begins to make signs with her hands and her face. She blushes. She gets angry.
He too, starts to use sign language. They fight a lot, who knows why.
In silence they pour out a private anger that remains between them, unknown to the other passengers.
Then everything finishes.
He begins to read again.
She looks elsewhere.
Then once more, she reaches out for his arm.
He looks at her. She kisses him.
When I get off the train at Muratella they are still embracing. I see them through the window.