Lessons Gleaned From a Danish Window
Editor’s note: this article originally appeared in a slightly different form at Emily’s travel blog at Matador Community.
Barefoot across the floorboards of his kitchen. The coffee was waiting. I poured. To my right: his wine bottles, cooking spices, jars of oatmeal, tea, and hazelnuts lining the bachelor-pad shelves. To my left, the small kitchen window framed fragments of a nondescript Danish courtyard. A steel grey sky, vivid yellow paint of the next building, laundry fluttering pathetically in the misty fog.