Trafika Europe 5 - Slovenian Interlude

Johan hadn’t moved in, if he and Ragna hadn’t teamed up and doubled my troubles in this home.

I reach for my crutches. No, despite the revelation out on the ice I don’t want to leave one bit, not yet at any rate, and not before I have tried to turn the situation around. I count my lucky stars that Ragna has realized my decision, otherwise Johan would never get the punishment he deserves.

Isn’t it my cup he still lifts to that huge mouth of his? My plate his greedy fingers eat from?


There are various jobs that need to be done. But the project is of such a nature that I keep it to myself, I don’t say a single word about it in Home University , don’t formulate it for my inner gaze or ear, except as a magic spell, a hoarse incantation: tish, vish, vush, vish vanish… All previous plans are put on hold, now there are other priorities: up out of bed, from my withered, will-less sickbed – that’s of the utmost urgency. But it’s not training I trust my luck to, the crutches’ complaint across the floor, no, it’s the collecting of paraphernalia, of small crucial items that will help me attain my goal.


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