Are you still there?

A brief visit to Grünerløkka later, I feel like somone who had one small bite of warm, soft, sugary cinnamon bun before it was snatched away and given to someone else. I do think it's soothing and right and comforting to stay in Kristiansund at this time, but I still miss my everyday scenes.

I miss good coffee. I miss nipping out to Tim's for a short, perfectly caramelized, perfectly brewed latte. I miss checking the watch, waiting for it to creep towards five o'clock and a coffee date with Lin at Påfyll. I'm always early and wait in the window seat perusing glossy magazines. Sometimes I happily arrange their spotless furniture in my imaginary house. Sometimes I'm happy that I don't have a house and that I can't afford spotless furniture.

I miss my spires and my solitude, both of which I need to enter The Inner Realms. I like the little tiny spire I can see from the window at Påfyll, and the weather vane that perches on a turret above the building next door. But I love my real in-spire, which I can see from the bed, and from the kitchen table, and from the armchair in the living room. It sends me little peals of church bells, which only just manage to cross the cool sibilants of the river to reach my windows. It floats tirelessly above a leafy sea so that we don't lose sight of each other.

And I miss my Pan and my Pims, and all the things they tell me, when we're not on the phone.

All pics by Lin, of course.