Vicky's message filled the kitchen, the hall and the room that still lay in darkness, it took up all the space, it consumed the oxygen.
"Hi, it's Vicky. Have you heard? Have you heard about the accident? It's about Yvonne. She's dead."
In the midst of the confusion I noted my own behaviour, as if watching myself from outside.
The strange thing was that I took out a clean tea towel and removed the strainer from the teapot before I called Vicky back.
No, it's not strange. It's how it is. The screw is there. In case of shock, please wind up for mechanical behaviour.
Vibeke Olsson (Swedish author)
(translated by me from a novel that I don't think is available in English, "Koltrasten i Tegnérlunden"; koltrast = blackbird)
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