Trafika Europe 1 - Northern Idyll
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
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