Crotone statzione

Intro Now I am at the station — my station. The platforms lie quiet but watchful, like a stage before the curtain rises. I walk its length with practiced grace, the soles of my shoes tapping out a rhythm older than schedules. My eyes scan every signal, every glint of sun on the tracks, tuned to the language of rail: tension in the wires, the soft sigh of brakes, the shift in wind that hints at an approaching train. Here, I don’t just manage machinery — I interpret movement. I orchestrate journeys with silence and precision. I am not seen, but everything flows through me.