Lina liked the way the ducks moved around and just lived their own little lives. She tightened her military green jacket around her and watched them paddle about, breaking the reflection of the snow capped mountains in the water.
It was so long ago and as I try to write this down I can’t recall any of the things we said to each other or even how her face looked. These days all the details I remember are from the stories I have told about our time together to other people. In some ways those stories are like time capsules of moments that I have sent to my future self.
I could see that her shoulders relaxed and a calm exuded from her. It was the same when she took care of her rabbit, Pia. It was during probably one of the best summers of my life when I spent a month at their family home in Northern Norway. The entire family was in Greece and we were taking care of the house, her gran who lived in the middle floor and Pia the rabbit in the garden.
The sun never really set and time didn’t mean anything back then. I made us fried rice and we dined with the air of royalty on that terrace. Me digging into my own creation and Lina shaking her head at my enthusiasm for food. Pia hopped around our feet happy to have the veranda to bounce around.