Skip to content
Give readers a window on the world. Click to donate.
from the June 2015 issue

Austurvöllur on the Day of the Wake

Friday. A summer day. The sun shines.
Everyone takes off socks and sweaters and jeans. Beautiful girls spread out blankets on the

Beautiful girls have a good day, a summer day. When evening falls, they go out and dance
until morning and go home with a boy or a girl and wake hungover but happy for the new
day, the summer day.

The dizzying scent of freshly cut grass.
A wriggling blossom in a flower bed.
Dolphins leap in the bay.
The sun shines.
Nothing is missing.
Babies smile toothlessly in strollers.
Babies smile toothlessly and eat ice cream in the sun as it melts all over their chubby hands. 
Their knuckles make dimples in their flesh.
It is so warm. There’s no way anybody’d dress in black. There’s no way anybody’d stay inside
at twilight.

White-collar workers close up shop.
The sea is blue.
The sun shines.
Nothing is missing.
People arrive with a spring in their step, people want to make love with the balcony doors

People buy salmon fillets, people buy lamb tenderloin, people are going to grill in the
evening, smiling and excited, as they tip their glasses.

People drink beer and lemonade in the cafés.
Beautiful girls laugh and embrace.
Bums roll around broken-legged in the grass.
Joy is now.
The sun shines and
nothing is missing. 

Read more from the June 2015 issue
Like what you read? Help WWB bring you the best new writing from around the world.