Trafika Europe 1 - Northern Idyll
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47

Quiet and meaningless

As wind in dry grass

Or rats’ feet over broken glass

In our dry cellar.

Calm, hr. Eigil, calm, he told himself.

A rose branch twisted around the marble plate. It had been

finely etched into the gray material and the concave leaves

sported some soft moss.

With a smile he asked himself whether or not it would have

bothered Napoleon Nolsøe that Nils Tvibur’s great

grandson was sitting here painting these letters with silver-

bronze.

Eigil and Karin had planned to drink a birthday toast at the

gravesite, and his bag contained a bottle of Chablis and two

glasses. He uncorked the bottle, lit a cigarette, and

considered the newly painted letters:

HERE LIES BURIED

RETIRED COUNTRY SURGEON

NAPOLEON NOLSØE

MARCH 3rd 1878