Very much in the vein of that “6-word novel” wrongly attributed to Hemingway (“For sale: Baby shoes, never worn”), a story has appeared in the Spanish media about one of the passengers of the Alvia 151 train, which — not without a certain dark, uncanny sense of coincidence — derailed on the eve of St. James’ day, precisely when entering the city of Santiago, at the hair-raising speed of 190kmh.
Susana was traveling from Madrid, where she’d been attending a funeral, and Arcadio, her husband, was waiting for her arrival at the train station. As the train approached its destination, the couple began exchanging text messages about the weather…
Susana (8:29pm) – Cloudy.
Arcadio (8:31pm) – If it’s sunny and then cloudy, it’s a scorcher.
Susana (8.45pm) – Accident dunno if’ll mqke it
Susana (8.45pm) – Can’t breathi
Susana (8.45pm) – .
Susana (8.45pm) – Crushred
Arcadio (8.45pm) – What?
Susana (8.50pm) – I’m alrightq!