The trains in Sweden are fast, clean, quiet and empty. I had forgotten.

I visited my friend’s mother one Monday evening. We’d never met before. I got to see my friend’s childhood room and we did a tour of the garden. My friend’s artwork on the shelves and I imagined her teenage feet on the wooden floors.

I gifted a capulana and told stories of our adventures. In return I was offered dinner and more stories. I got a sense of being close to my friend even though she was in Eswatini, in African winter.

When I left around 10PM the sun was still high.

Maybe all this is very boring. It still deserves to be told.

…

(This story told in pictures.)