Kære Kasper,

I found one of Preben's old library cards this morning... in the drawer with the bicycle bell and the rubber bands. The little chip on it doesn't talk to anything anymore, of course. They retired that system years ago. But it has his handwriting on the back — just "P. Sørensen" in that careful way he had, as if a librarian might judge him for the loop on the P.

The cherry trees on Langgade are already shedding. May is too warm again, the petals come down early now... Fru Lindqvist next door says her balcony sensors think it's June. I told her sensors don't know everything. She agreed and we drank coffee.

I asked the kitchen to play that record your grandfather liked, the one with the trumpet. It got it almost right. I didn't correct it.

Are you eating? Aarhus has good bakeries, I refuse to believe otherwise. Send me a photo of your room, even just the corner — I want to see where you put the lamp.

That's all for today. The light is moving and I want to sit in it for a while.

Held og lykke med eksamen, my dear.

— Mormor

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