So here I am. Yet another American gal who followed love to Stockholm. I'm told there's even a name for us: love refugees, which conjures up an image of us all huddled together in some kind of Ellis Island type... Continue Reading →
Nadja Johansson stayed with me most of the weekend as I sat by Anders' bedside. We didn't talk to start with; I told her firmly when she arrived that I didn't have anything to say until I knew he would... Continue Reading →
It's raining hard now, the burning stuga crackling and sizzling. I hold Anders, try to protect his wound from the rain. The lump in my throat almost chokes me, I can't howl, I'll break down. Please don't leave me Anders.... Continue Reading →
She laughs at me. I've got it all wrong. Of course I have. But who cares, doesn't matter, just keep her talking. Very soon, Nadja said. The local police car she was sending to the stuga to make sure Anders... Continue Reading →
The door. We've almost reached it. I can't see it any more, black smoke fills the tiny stuga, my eyes are stinging, watering; I'm just pressing on, an inch at a time. One arm clutching around his chest, the other... Continue Reading →
Tove I understand. She taunted you that night, didn't she? After I went to bed, and Daniel and Anders were in their drunken stupors, she started lecturing you about how relationships were for losers and humans weren't cut out for... Continue Reading →
The heat is unbearable. The air is tight, acrid; I'm breathing heavily from the exertion of dragging Anders' dead weight across the floor, but it's like I hit a blank wall where there's no more air. I choke, panic rising.... Continue Reading →
The heat is unbearable. The air feels tight; I'm breathing heavily with the exertion of dragging Anders' dead weight across the floor but it's like I hit a blank wall where there's no more air and I choke, then try... Continue Reading →
Hi, Nadja... I don't know if you remember me, you gave me your card -- my name is Regan King -- Yes? I think Anders is in danger. He's at the stuga -- Daniel's stuga -- where Hanna died. Why... Continue Reading →
Anders just texted. He is at Daniel's stuga. Of course. He wanted to feel close to Daniel and Hanna I've been sitting, waiting for hours. I should have called her, that would have been the normal thing to do, 'hey... Continue Reading →
Life is Swede 