A touch of blue, under the Stockholm sky

On the terrace of Radisson Collection Strand Hotel, with a view over the astonishing Nybroviken waters, I sit in a folding chair, smoking my usual, Camel, with a fine cup of coffee and Chet Baker playing in the background. I tried hard not to think about Ela, but that was a mistake. Like she had done for years now, she slipped through the cracks on the walls I had built to keep the world outside. This time, the situation was different. E., was dead and, unfortunately, there was nothing metaphorical about it. Two weeks ago, while it had been the most usual day for me, someone had forced his will upon her. I always thought there was something indestructible about her. Her being, hersoul. So much pride into her eyes, like a queen. Like there wasn’t enough force in...

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