Chidi!!

Okay so the harbour bath closed Sunday and I went alone, which sounds tragic, and fine, it was a little tragic. Vilma moved to Roskilde in July. Everyone acts like Roskilde is not another planet. It is another planet.

I sat on the pier for maybe an hour. Water was 14 degrees and I got in anyway because I am, as you know, extremely tough. The screen by the ladder counted my minutes and told me my heart rate was "within a normal range for your cohort," which is the most Danish sentence ever constructed.

Here is the embarrassing part. I took my earpiece out. On purpose. So the whole harbour was just — sounds. Someone's mum yelling in Arabic, gulls, the ferry doing its stupid polite whir. I understood maybe 30% and it was so much better. Everything translated is correct and slightly dead. Like a photo of food.

Anyway. Chestnuts are already on Østerbrogade. I'm collecting them in my jacket pocket for no reason, like a child, like Farmor used to.

Come in June. I'll teach you 14 degrees.

— M.

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