Postkort fra 2037: The Plum Tree Preben Planted
Kæreste Kasper,
The plums are early this year — the tree Preben planted the summer you were born is heavy with them already, and I can't reach the top ones anymore. The Hassans' boy came over with one of those little lift-poles the community garden shares now, folds up to nothing, and picked me two bowls before I could even offer him juice. Sweet child. His mother says he's going to be an engineer...
Valby is warm and slow. They finally finished the shade-canopy over Toftegårds Plads — it opens like a flower when the sun gets fierce and folds away when the swifts come out. I sat under it Tuesday with Grethe and we watched the whole square breathe. Silly, but lovely.
I saved you a jar of the plum jam. Don't tell your mother it has too much sugar.
Are you eating? Aarhus is far but the trains are quick now, you have no excuse. Come before the plums are gone. Preben would have loved to see you tall.
The kettle's singing. More soon.
Din mormor, Birthe
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