Postkort fra 2039: The Girl With the Handwriting
Kære Kasper
Warm here, properly warm, the shade-nets over the courtyard unrolled themselves at eleven and made everything green and underwater-looking... Preben would have complained about them. He complained about awnings on principle.
Anyway. I have news, small news. The new family in 3rd floor left has a girl, six, called Vega, and she knocked on my door on Tuesday to ask if I was the one with the handwriting. Apparently her mother told her I write letters by hand, like it was a party trick. So now she comes Tuesdays and Thursdays and I let her do loops on the back of old envelopes. Her Æ is a catastrophe. She's very proud of it.
She asked me why I don't just say the words to the wall like everybody else, and I said because then nobody keeps them... and she thought about that for a long time, Kasper. Six years old, thinking.
The tomatoes are hopeless again. Three of them and each one the size of a regret.
Come when you can. I'll make the thing with the potatoes you like, and Vega will show you her Æ whether you want it or not.
Din mormor, who is much loved on Tuesdays
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