Utkast

The window is open and through the inch-wide gap, soft cigarette smoke is finding its way into the apartment. There is someone standing down at the pavement in the sunset, smoking a whole package of Camels.
The smell of the smoke feels so fabulously well-known that I have to glance down at the person, but to my disappointment I find a complete stranger, a tall figure dressed up as if he was to attend a funeral.
I watch him for a while, he smokes a cigarette and then starts a new one straight away, like he wanted time to pass.

He looks up at me after he lights his cigarette, and he looks straight through me.
I open the window and carefully lean out from it.
- Got a lighter?
I slowly wave the package of cigarettes in my right hand.
- Of course, but you're on the second floor, he chuckles and puts his cigarette to his lips.

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Du skriver ditt nummer med blå kulspets på min hand och när jag vaknar morgonen efter och tittar mig själv i badrumsspegeln så står det klistrat på min panna.

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Gäspar äntligen vid 3:21, det håller på att ljusna utanför fönstret. Jag dunsar ner i en halvbäddad säng, gäspar ytterligare två gånger. En bitter man har ringt in till telefonsvararen på Vaken med P3 & P4 och han pratar om det träliga vädret i vad som känns som en oändlighet.