We met outside the party. Time to go home. We spoke to you and your friend a little and then my sister headed towards our bikes. I saw you on the dance floor earlier on and thought you were darn cute, but that was it. Two hours later you sit on my bicycle’s rack. The journey home would take an hour. I biked slowly and we talked, the way two stranger’s talk. When nothing, other than having a good time matters. When you don’t need to be afraid of showing your true self because we both know it will only be this night and then you’ll fly away to your Danish universe, and I to mine. The bike-ride took longer than expected, because my sister and her companion tended to fall, ever so often, with their bike. Every time they fell down we kept on biking and then came to a stall, and every time you kissed me. First time asking: “Can I kiss you now?”. The 2nd 3d 4th you didn’t ask again.
You begged me to follow you home but you shared room with your friend “but I’ll kick him out!” and then “Okey, but what if I join you to your house?” “If you want to share bed with my mom, because we sleep in the same bed..” I replied. At that you laughed and in the bright summer night you started talking deeply about your life, the way strangers do, confide in each other, without insecurities about being judged or advised. Solely two wandering stories shared.
How fine it is to meet a human and spend a couple of hours with it, have a good time and then go back to normal life. Simple as that.
Josie Mattsson 