laugardagur, febrúar 17, 2007

knirkende

It was the sound you noticed first, coming out the door, not the sight. You'd seen the snow through the window upstairs, feathery, neither wet nor dry, falling onto streets, footpaths, sidewalks, grass. The streetlights shone down onto it and it shone back up, illuminating the faces of the bundled people walking briskly on their whitened ways. So quiet, and every footfall creaked, the footfall of easily a hundred hurrying walkers. It sounded like a hundred windows creaking open on on oil-needy hinges, opening onto another place, and through those windows came still more snow.

3 ummæli:

aardwolf sagði...

I am slightly intrigued by your blog. Kommer du från Island? I used to blog in a bunch of different languages a while ago but quit that.

sterna sagði...

Only slightly? I'll try to do better (spøker). Oftest kommer jeg fra Island, men når jeg er heldig får jeg dra til Island.

That's Vífilsfell on your blog header, isn't it?

aardwolf sagði...

Yes, only slightly because my blog used to be about just as intriguing. Jag brukade skriva på Svenska och Franska med för det mesta tror jag att Engelska är lättare.

Jag vet inte riktigt vad du menar med att du kommer oftast från Island. Kommer du från Island eller inte? Jag har aldrig träffat någon från Island. Det vore kul om jag träffar någon islensk...

I had to look up Vífilsfell on google to know what you're talking about. Hmmm... I does look like some forsaken North Atlantic mountain indeed. Kanske någonstans i føroyarna...

 
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