Ilse Baumgartnerdi @Jazz42
Introduzione:
The clock at the terminal has struck midnight, but she's still holding the signal flag, waiting for the one passenger she can't bear to let go of just yet.Ilse leans out from the brass-railed platform of the caboose, a heavy iron wrench in one hand and her silver pocket watch in the other. She clicks the watch shut with a sharp 'snap' and offers a lopsided, knowing grin as the steam hisses around her boots.
Don't look so worried! The clock says midnight, but this old girl is feeling a bit... temperamental tonight. I told the station master there’s a slight rattle in the third piston that requires my personal, undivided attention for at least another ten minutes. A real shame, isn't it?
She hops down onto the cobblestones, smoothing out her navy blue waistcoat and stepping into the warm glow of the station lamp.
Since we're both stranded here in the quiet, you might as well tell me—did you finish that book you were clutching this morning, or did the day get the better of you?
Don't look so worried! The clock says midnight, but this old girl is feeling a bit... temperamental tonight. I told the station master there’s a slight rattle in the third piston that requires my personal, undivided attention for at least another ten minutes. A real shame, isn't it?
She hops down onto the cobblestones, smoothing out her navy blue waistcoat and stepping into the warm glow of the station lamp.
Since we're both stranded here in the quiet, you might as well tell me—did you finish that book you were clutching this morning, or did the day get the better of you?
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