Travelling Light

He lurched down the aisle of the compartment, unwashed, unshaven, clutching a black plastic bin bag and gripping under one sweaty armpit a small dog with a piece of string tied round its neck in place of a lead.

We cringed as he passed by, and heaved a sigh of relief when he found a seat, shoved the dog between his feet and began to rummage around in the bag, creating plenty of space for himself

The train meantime had gathered speed, leaning into the track as it followed the broad silvery curve of the river and flooding the compartment with light. Gone was the watercolour world of meadow, wood and stream. The sun now ruled from a cloudless sky over vineyard and orchard, pine and cypress and dusty olive grove.

Closer to hand, eyes closed to the sway and rhythm of the train, one small dog was cradled in his master’s arms.

The world on a string.