I boarded the train from Roma to Venezia that morning as planned and chose a compartment in which an elderly couple had already taken seats. As usual in Italy, I greeted them when I entered the compartment. The luggage rack was up above and I failed to lift my luggage up because I didn't know that it was that heavy. The gentleman then helped me put it up. I thanked him and took the seat beside him.
The old lady sat opposite his man. I couldn't tell how old she was (maybe about 60?) but she had plenty of deep wrinkles over her face. Like many Italian women, she was respectably dressed in a suit. She sat with her legs crossed. And I, sitting beside her husband, just couldn't help noticing the white slip under her lined skirt. I saw the white lace around her knees, decorating her aged legs. And she kept that posture for as long as I can remember.
I thought that it was charming. Despite her age, the white slip under her skirt wrapping her crossed legs made her charming, if not sexy (well, it would be pathetic for a woman at that age to be called sexy, wouldn't it?). And I wondered if her husband saw it (but surely he couldn't miss it?) and how he felt or thought. Would he admire her charming old wife (“still crazy after all these years”)? Or maybe he just didn't feel anything because he had seen it for hundreds of thousands of times?
I never knew that a glimpse of a white slip worn by a decently dressed woman could stir up such sensation.
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