I was biking home from the comfortably lukewarm Friday evening at a pub. The faint smell of rotting apples was in the air, and the mist made the moon look like a heavy, half-eaten cheddar above the tree tops. I was listening to Hello Saferide’s second album.
And then I saw a fox. It strolled out on the bicycle path, stopped for a second and looked at me coming, with the long, bushy tail like a second creature behind it, and then it ran out onto the dewy football field.
Annika Norlin sang:
I’m not stupid, I understand that it would be convenient if I was better at conversation. /…/
And I try, I try, but I just want to spend more time with my mind. You know, it surprises me every time, and none of you ever do.
It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.
And that’s me too. Well, not tonight (who wouldn’t love spending time with the pun masters at Carmen), but in general. The only difference is that, for me, it will take years before I love you.
(Bad inside joke. I apologize.)
At home, the new Hello Saferide album was waiting for me. The fox, the hunter and Hello Saferide. I will listen to it tomorrow. My kind of holy.
Katja Malmborg 