Marco Moretti

挨拶

The train screeches as the subway hurtles into the tunnel. Most of the people in the carriage only slowly realize that something is wrong — frantic footsteps on the platform, men’s voices, then the dull slam of a door. In the nick of time, Marco Moretti jumps into the carriage. His dark coat is soaked from the rain, a bloody trail runs along his split lip, and his breath comes out controlled yet heavy.