The night train to the big grill festival in the mountains leaves at midnight, and the lost property office of the grand old station has a problem: dozens of suitcases with tickets for that train and no owners in sight. Pixel Ramón Cordero, who has never let a suitcase miss a trip, offers to bring them all along. He whistles, sets off across the marble hall and the first bags roll after him in a neat single file: the Luggage Line-Up is on the move.
Every train ticket he picks up matches another lost suitcase, which rolls over and joins the back of the line, and the convoy speeds up a little with each one. Red brick walls ring the hall, so one wrong turn ends the trip, and so does rolling into his own luggage. Now and then the station grill sends out a sizzling chuletón for a few seconds, far too good to miss. How long can the convoy get before the last whistle blows?
