Home and Away
Back with my old room mate in Stockholm.
Brushing teeth, talking. A part of me wish I could stay…
But I’m only here for two days.
Yesterday I took a stroll on the South side, popping into second hand stores, book shops and a mandatory stop at my favourite music store, Pet Sounds.
Bought a cute 50’s vintage dress and a Patti Smith poetry book.
Met up with Beatrice for the best carrot and ginger soup ever. I took a picture of course, but in the context I don’t know if it matters. There were just so many other great moments that day that wasn’t captured.
Her giggling smile and colourful charisma.
Stockholm in bloom.
Us, walking, talking, laughing.
We are different, yet so alike…
We’re like body butter; I am lemon meringue. She is coconut.
That night an Italian friend of mine was in town with his wife and we had made a plan to meet up. I rushed home to get changed. In the spirit of the Italian evening I had a quick martini and borrowed Micke’s Capri shirt that worked very well with a skirt.
Simone and his wife Silvia were already waiting for me by the water of Norrmälarstrand.
Last time we met was five years ago in Sydney, Australia.
Simone looked at me, down from my black boots up to my dyed dark hair and said; You look…different. You’ve become a woman.
I hope so, I said with a smile that still makes me look fifteen.
We took a long walk through the warm evening, catching up in my rusty Italian.
A few drinks at Riche bar, a stroll back to their hotel and a promise that we would meet again soon, and then home.
Home and away.
A way home.