by Dorthe Nors
Minna is suddenly unsure.
Minna felt at home in the song a few minutes ago.
The song disappeared, down toward the bottom.
The song stands still among the herring.
Everything else belongs to another reality.
Everything else, Minna thinks to herself, is mere geography.
Minna’s crawled into bed at her lodgings.
The landlady’s not home.
The dog’s inconsolable.
Minna’s stuffed a quilt around the bottom of the door.
Minna’s glad she has earplugs.
Minna’s glad she’s by herself again.
The man and woman wanted to accompany her to Svaneke.
Minna was dragged in as an unwilling witness.
Minna didn’t escape the couple till they were at the harbor kiosk.
Disappointment inhabits her mind like rainy weather.
Minna really wants an asshole filter.
Minna wants to start setting boundaries.
Minna can’t say either yes or no, and
Minna’s legs feel heavy.
The duvet feels strange.
The lodgings smell of cottage.
Minna thinks of spooks.
Minna’s only afraid of spooks once in a while.
Minna doesn’t believe in spooks, but
Things you don’t believe in often exist anyway.
The Grauballe Man haunted Minna one spring when she was a child.
The Grauballe Man lay dead in the Moesgård Museum, but
The Grauballe Man walks around at night.
The Grauballe Man wriggles out of his display.
The Grauballe Man stands out on the cobblestones.
The Grauballe Man walks into Marselisborg Forest.
The Grauballe Man loves nature—and Minna.
The bog man visits Minna at night.
Minna lies in her small bed with the duvet pulled up to her nose.
Minna lies and stares at the door of her room.
The living room resounds with the sound of coffee cups.
Elisabeth’s room resounds with the sound of high school boys.
Minna lies with her eyes on stalks, and then!
The door opens, and who should enter?
Minna’s friend from Marselisborg Forest.
The Grauballe Man smells of harness.
The Grauballe Man’s body is a story of its own.
The head crushed.
The throat cut.
The feet flat and lumpy, but what’s worse:
The bog man leans over Minna.
The bog man’s picked anemones for Minna.
The bog man boasts of his earthly remains.
The bog man still has flesh on his bones.
Minna will end up a skeleton!
Dad too!
Mom!
Elisabeth?
Minna doesn’t believe in spooks.
Minna believes in the Grauballe Man.
Minna lies in her Bornholm sanctuary.
Minna considers the spiritual probabilities.
Bergman haunts her too.
Elisabeth employs demons.
The Fenris wolf howls.
The spooks are coming if they exist.
Elisabeth’s coming if she discovers where Minna is.
Elisabeth wants to have the little ones under her thumb.
Minna just wants to love the little ones.
Minna’s little ones would never lack for sweets.
Minna’s little ones would grow roly-poly.
Minna really can’t say no.
It doesn’t matter now anyhow.
Minna won’t become anyone’s mother, and
Kids are the worst spooks in the world.
Kids can’t understand that they don’t exist.
Kids stick their cold hands under the duvet.
Kids would like to slap the sleeper’s face.
Minna collects herself.
Minna forces herself to think of dull things.
Minna makes plans for the morrow.
Minna wants to go farther out.
Minna wants to find a rock so desolate.
Minna wants to go out to the rock and sing.
Minna wants to make sure she’s alone.
Minna wants to stand there and get everything to swing.
The song will vault higher and higher.
The sky will stretch itself open,
The waves cast themselves against the cliff,
The ships beat into the wind.
Minna presses herself down into her rented linen.
Minna pushes herself out of reality.
The children exit Minna’s consciousness.
The children go with the Grauballe Man.
Marselisborg Forest closes up behind them.
The museum awaits.
The roe deer.
Minna’s put on her bathing suit under her sundress.
Minna wants to go out and sing and get tan.
Minna wants to rock-bathe.
Minna has to get provisions first.
Minna’s gone for a walk in town.
Svaneke’s lovely.
Svaneke’s light yellow.
Svaneke’s a set piece, thinks Minna.
The sky a stage border.
The smokehouse a sort of canteen.
The knickknack shops = the costume department.
Minna plays with the motif, and there’s something to it.
Minna does like Svaneke, but
Svaneke reminds her a bit of Linda.
The houses have tricked themselves out for the season.
The houses bulge with whitewashed plinths.
Minna raises her eyes to the horizon.
The ocean’s not going anywhere.
The ocean’s seen much worse.
The cliffs are above thoughts of time.
The Baltic! Årsdale!
Minna wants to hike toward Årsdale a bit later.
Minna wants to hike so far south that she can hike in peace.
Minna’s looked at the map.
The rocks extend a long way out down there.
The rocks permit clambering.
Minna can walk far out onto the rocks.
Minna’s on her way down and out, but
Svaneke Dairy is famed for its beer ice cream.
Svaneke Dairy lies en route.
Minna wants to have an ice cream to hike on.
The weather’s good for ice cream, and lots of people have thought the same thing:
The tourists have formed a line.
The line reaches far out into the gravel.
The line hardly budges.
The small children crawl around on a plastic cow in the courtyard.
The mothers stand in line.
The fathers look after the kids.
The retirees rummage in their purses.
The retirees cannot find their spectacles.
The waitresses are dressed in Morten Korch costumes.
The waitresses resemble actresses from the fifties.
The waitresses look like Tove Maës and Ghita Nørby.
The waitresses hobble becomingly in their feudal shoes.
The waitresses look homespun by the latte machines.
Minna’s crept forward a little ways in the line now.
Minna can see that there are celebrities in the line.
The celebrities take a long time to serve.
The retirees are on a first-name basis with the celebrities.
The small children ride the cow.
The fathers look at smartphones.
The mothers are ready to crack.
Minna on the other hand is of good cheer.
Minna wants to have a cup of coffee with her ice cream.
Minna’s advanced far in the line.
Minna’s about to order.
Tove Maës just can’t see Minna.
Tove Maës can only see the celebrity.
The celebr
ity’s from on TV.
The celebrity will have ice cream with licorice in it.
The celebrity will have espresso.
The celebrity flaunts the fact that he comes here often.
Tove Maës and the celebrity gossip about the locals.
Ghita Nørby limps out after more sherbet.
Ghita and Tove want most to serve the celebrity.
The celebrity can get what he wants.
Minna’s been cut in front of twice now.
Minna raises her hand tentatively.
Minna gets up on tiptoe.
The celebrity laughs loud and long.
Tove Maës laughs loud and long.
The retirees’ hip cement begins to crumble.
The kids will be confirmed soon.
The mothers and fathers have long since divorced.
Minna says, Excuse me!
Minna’s surprised to hear her own voice.
Minna continues, There are lots of folks who’re waiting.
Tove Maës freezes under her bonnet.
Ghita Nørby moves in frames.
Minna blushes with justice on her side.
Minna orders a caffe latte.
Minna orders a tub of beer ice cream.
Tove Maës hobbles over to the coffee machine.
Ghita Nørby shoots the celebrity a glance.
The celebrity walks out into the courtyard.
The retiree behind Minna smiles gratefully.
Minna looks proudly back at the line.
Minna regards the people she’s rescued.
Minna’s proud of her sudden asshole filter.
Minna sticks a feather in her cap.
Small victories count too, she thinks.
A hand pokes up in the middle of the line.
The hand pokes up and waves.
A large gray head pops to the side.
Gunvor’s mouth is a gaping O.
Gunvor calls out Minna’s name loudly in the dairy.
Minna! It’s me! Gunvor Kramer! From the folk high school!
Minna hears her coffee fizz out of the coffee machine.
Tove Maës sends a wicked smile out of the corner of her mouth.
Minna’s asshole filter worked well two seconds ago, but
Minna’s asshole filter has large holes in the mesh.
Gunvor Kramer’s found a corner in the courtyard.
Gunvor Kramer’s pushed Minna deep into the corner.
Gunvor Kramer’s wearing a linen smock.
Gunvor Kramer’s hair is pinned fast with a Viking clasp.
Gunvor’s been thinking a lot about Minna.
Minna’s made a big difference for Gunvor.
Gunvor was only capable of simple compositions.
Gunvor couldn’t get larger works to hang together.
Gunvor mostly preferred music with a chorus.
Gunvor was stuck artistically.
Minna helped her advance.
Gunvor stands in the supermarket, and then it happens.
Gunvor has to run out of the store.
Gunvor has to go over to her car.
Gunvor seats herself behind the wheel.
Gunvor finds her notebook in her purse.
Gunvor writes down the lyrics.
Gunvor hums the melody.
This is just an example, says Gunvor.
Gunvor clears her throat.
Minna’s coffee halts in front of her mouth.
The coffee steams in the morning heat.
The beer ice cream melts.
Gunvor sings a song.
The song’s about love.
Love is vulnerable, sings Gunvor.
Love falls to pieces so easily, she sings.
People are so busy.
No one should forget anybody.
No one should forget anybody.
Gunvor’s eyes are large and shiny.
Gunvor’s finished now.
Gunvor says that it’s the prologue to a cantata.
The cantata’s still missing a lot.
Minna smiles and grasps her beer ice cream.
Minna moves over on the bench.
Minna says, It’s good to know you got something out of the class.
Gunvor scrapes the bottom of her sherbet tub.
Gunvor asks how long Minna’s going to be on Bornholm.
Minna answers vaguely.
Gunvor gets an idea.
Gunvor’s planned a day trip to Dueodde.
It’s hot, Gunvor says, let’s go down and bathe.
Minna says, I’m not big on swimming.
Gunvor points at her sundress and asks, Why the bathing suit?
Minna needn’t reply.
Minna doesn’t owe Gunvor a reply.
Gunvor’s already moved on anyhow.
Gunvor tells her about the sand in Dueodde.
The sand is fine.
The sand gets into every fold of skin.
Gunvor slaps her thighs.
The skinfolds quiver.
Something moves inside the linen smock.
Minna feels powerless, especially in her face.
Minna needs to put up a fight.
Minna’s mouth tries to come up with a lie.
Minna’s mouth doesn’t want to say anything.
Gunvor’s mouth doesn’t want anything but, but now Minna gets lucky:
The backpack rings.
Minna’s backpack is sitting on the bench and ringing.
Gunvor looks at the backpack.
Minna knows quite well who’s hiding in the pack.
Minna opens it up anyway.
People ought to go away when they talk on their cells.
Anything else is rude.
Minna presses the answer button.
Minna gets up carefully from the bench.
Minna leaves the corner with Gunvor.
Minna here.
It’s about time! says Elisabeth.
Elisabeth gets down to business.
Elisabeth’s been saving up.
Minna walks hesitantly through the courtyard.
Minna approaches the cow.
Elisabeth pricks up her ears on the other end.
Elisabeth asks, Who are those kids?
Minna says, I don’t know.
That’s true enough, but not true enough for the sister.
Elisabeth says that it’s hard to be related to Minna.
Elisabeth says that it’s getting harder and harder.
Elisabeth says that Mom and Finn are coming for the weekend.
Mom and Finn can’t stay in Potato Row.
The bench isn’t for sitting on, she says.
Elisabeth says, If Minna went to Aarhus more often.
Elisabeth says that it’d never happen if …
Minna’s rounded the corner of the dairy.
Svaneke Harbor lies before her.
The boats rock in the late-summer breeze.
Gunvor sits in the courtyard.
Minna has her backpack with her.
Minna’s sandals have nonslip soles.
Nothing’s to prevent her.
The path is clear.
Who’s going to stop her?
The sister wants to know where Minna is, and
Minna’s running.
Minna’s running down to the harbor.
Minna’s on her way south, away from Svaneke.
Elisabeth says, Answer me! Where?
Minna says, I’m on my way to Årsdale.
Elisabeth doesn’t know where Årsdale is.
Årsdale’s in North Jutland, Minna says.
Årsdale’s a little place south of Aalborg.
Everybody knows that, Minna says.
Minna can hear that Elisabeth didn’t know that.
Minna can hear her sister’s disbelief, but
Minna’s positive, and now the connection’s breaking up.
The connection crackles and hisses.
The connection gets so bad that Minna disappears.
/> Minna disappears.
Minna’s feet take wing.
Minna’s an instance of female buoyancy and helium.
The rock’s flat and sloping.
The rock’s wet at the base.
The sun hangs heavy as a plum.
The sea’s blue-black.
Minna’s observed:
The Bay of Aarhus is a fresh blue plain.
The Sound’s a bottle-green river, but
The Baltic’s black and greasy.
Minna’s taken off her sundress.
Minna’s smeared herself with SPF 20.
Minna stands with her toes so that they get wet.
Minna wants to rock-bathe, but
The sea grass waves under the surface.
The bladder wrack has lashed itself fast.
The rock looks like a woman’s sex under the surface.
Minna isn’t really sure and glances behind her.
Minna had to clamber to get here.
Minna had to crawl and injure herself.
Minna had to rest en route.
Minna was in flight of course, but
Minna isn’t thinking about Gunvor anymore.
Minna stares at the sea.
Minna sees the darkness shift downward.
The darkness is deep on deep.
The loneliness profound.
Minna’s got plenty of time.
Minna doesn’t have to throw herself in.
The sky’s vaulting.
The clouds assume their positions.
Minna’s belly swells.
Something trickles.
Something else slides.
Minna lays her hands upon her midriff.
Minna inhales deep into her lungs.
Minna tilts back her neck.
Minna makes her mouth round, and then it arrives:
Minna sings a song in Latin.
Minna sings it with all that should’ve been.
Minna doesn’t pull her punches:
Sed eligo quod video
Collum iugo prebeo;
Ad iugum tamen
Suave suave transeo.
The song feels like an incantation.
Latin has a menacing effect.
The words are like holy water.
The pelvis swaying.
The arms floating.
The feet stomping.
Minna chanting.
The sea licking her toes.
The song begins anew.
The song presses its way out again and again.
Minna senses the water’s presence at her feet.
Minna thinks it’s just grand getting cold feet.
Minna raises her voice as loud as it’ll go.
The voice’ll go very loud.
The voice can go maybe just loud enough too.
Minna wants to take a step backward.
The rock’s slippery.
Minna’s foot slips.
Minna slips with it.