What is it? The mind is attempting to distinguish the noise. The sound of raindrops hitting the window in a consistent rhythm, it is pouring out there. A few drops falling on my cheeks, I turn away and refuse to close the window properly. I must catch up before the dream turning into fragments.
I crawled into a sickbed and was then wheeled to a hospital room where I would be waiting to take a few tests. It was quite embarrassing as I considered my health conditions to be stable. I was wasting the resources that could be useful and even crucial to genuine patients. A category I did not consider myself belonging to.
So here I am, sitting in a cafe located in the Old Town of Lübeck, watching the people pass by, overhearing a language I have no knowledge of. Thinking. It is the result of a spontaneous act. Lübeck is not an island associated with fabulous sunset scenes, the deep sound of waves, and the wind that blows gently on the beaches in half-darkness. It is not like that.
Continue reading “The reconciliation – a story about Lübeck”
A few years ago, I came across a postcard. The white cave houses surrounded by the turquoise blue sea, the glories of the blue domed church on the top of the cliff, and the beautiful sunset over the bay. Thrilled. It is a dream, is it not. A voice was whispering, let me be there, please. Let me feel the dream. It was when the longing started, so overwhelming that it hurt sometimes. Continue reading “The dream”
This is a delayed post, which is all about a moment captured on Thursday, 24 May 2018.
When I was walking up the hills towards the kindergarten, I saw some children waving at me enthusiastically from the sandbox. My little son William was among them. I noticed his shy smile. He had a rather reserved expression. He was proud, was he not? My visit was not unexpected as it turned out. The children knew they were going to have a very special reading time. A beautiful story about a crocodile named Clyde, told by the mother of William, written by her lovely blog friend Suzanne.
Her heart was beating fast as she swiped the card. It was a considerable amount. The dark-blue velvet box was being wrapped in carefully with silver gift paper. The movement of her fingers was flexible and gentle. The woman in the jewellery shop knew how to treat items of this kind.
I’m on the flight heading back to Norway after spending six days in China. A break from the routines. I call it “runaway”. The phrase is certainly used with a metaphoric sense as I don’t have a good cause to justify the expression.
I turned my head to her. Her shoulder length blond hair had started turning grey. Her light-blue eyes focused on some point in the front. She must be pretty when she was young, some of the beauty still remained in her appearance. A subtle elegance. She was driving, her face looked soft and relaxed.
When I entered “Kaffekoppen” (The coffee cup), a vintage cafe located in Stockholm’s Old Town, it was crowded. The waitress said if I didn’t mind going down stairs, there were plenty of seats available there. Of course, I didn’t mind. Continue reading “Midnight Wandering”
Isabelle´s thoughts 