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He rushed to his pocket, took out his lighter and gave it to me. I am good, aren’t I? I remembered right away. I giggled, pretty surprised a guy like him didn’t light my cigarette, but mostly pretty amused by his boyish gestures, yet he is older and so much wiser than I am.

I stopped in the middle of the street. It was almost raining.

It is almost dark. It is almost bright, I said in a calm manner.

He stopped a few steps later and looked at me. He laughed.

There was a time in Roskilde, many years ago… Dark clouds surrounded us and it was about to rain. Everything that was green looked intensely green. The color was indescribable.

My mother is just like you. She paints, you know, and goes on and on about the light…and forces me to go out in the woods with her, only because of the light.