Evergreen

Tell me at once all the fantastic things going on in Stockholm while I'm away, I write, as a heavy wet snow trickles aimlessly down the streets of the small town. Nothing, he says, but I won't believe it.

This town reminds me of why it is I go, what mire it is I fight so hard to sink into. The faces blur, they all look the same and I forget who I am in their mirror. His words remind me of city lights and greener pastures.

And I long for that safe harbor which is mine.