Next station: Roman Square - platform on the right

I have finally set off. My first encounter with Bucharest from a totally different perspective - someone actually LIVING there: having a real job there, having a proper place to live in, making friends there, using the public transport, etc. I felt nervous but desirous in my mission. The 'gatekeeper' was my real estate agent, Crina - a young lady my age with a firm and realiable handshake, who proved to know Bucharest like the back of her palm - she knew everything there was to know about places, things and people. I took to her from the very first moment and I got open to trust her expertise. She obviously needed that to make me quickly have a mental switch about the best place to live in. She proved me right. I got the most suitable place for what I really needed: a clean well-lighted place, as hemingway was saying, in the very heart of the city...I parted with Crina at the station. She took the train into the other direction. I was waiting for mine on the platform at the Roman Square. The monitor showed the countdown time: 3 minutes more. All of a sudden, next to me I saw an unaccompanied little blond schoolgirl, who must have been in her prep grade, thin, frail but stubborn in carrying her heavy schoolbag. Instinctively, I felt the need to protect her as I heard the train grinding to a halt. The gust of wind shredded us both blowing our long straight hair in disarray. She seemed a little embarrased by my gesture and got on very sure of herself ahead of me. With firm gestures she took her seat - steadfast and tenacious, placing her bag and changing boots safe next to her. She glanced at me, somehow intrigued - her eyes young but resilient, glum but garish. Our ages seemed to have reversed for a moment... She was not alone. And neither was I. We were safe, in the grand unsafety around us... all.