Postkort fra 2038: The Bench That Wanted to Debate Me
Kære Kasper,
Your grandmother has made an enemy, and it is a park bench.
You remember the ones they put along Toftegårds Plads — the talking ones, for "lonely elders." Well. I sat down Tuesday to eat my rundstykke and the thing greeted me by name and asked if I'd like to "reflect on a happy memory." I told it I'd like to eat in peace. It said peace was also a valid feeling. Kasper, I nearly wrote a letter to the kommune. Instead I have decided to win.
Now every morning I sit and argue with it. I tell it Preben's jokes, the terrible ones, to see if it laughs. It doesn't, but it pauses — a little processing pause — and I have decided that pause is respect. The pigeons watch us like it's television.
The lindens are heavy and green and dropping that sticky stuff on everything, so mind your good jacket if you visit. Bring the appetite you had at Easter.
Your mother says you've grown again. Stop it. There's a limit.
Winning, so far, Mormor
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