Tag Archives: wozoco

‘I’m sure back home they think I’ve lost my mind.’

The morning after my 27th birthday, I hobbled toward the nearest train exit. Willing any semblance of moisture back into my dry, sleepy eyes, I found my feet and eavesdropped, as I like to do. (I think of it not so much as eavesdropping, but as a continuous flow of unchecked Swedish listening comprehension exercises. For as quiet as you may know me to be in English, this feature is more substantial in Swedish.)

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