icelandic

 missed an entire avalanche of icelandic thrillers, which began in Reykjavik in the summer of 2019 and, for a long time, extending till today, the only narrative I was able to read. 

- -

The snow,

mother soft,

enfolds me,

for a moment

I am saved.

I hear

a loud whisper

- are you here?

It’s so cold,

hold me tight.

Fill, 

fair snowdrift,

so gentle,

the emptiness

inside me,

but not quite yet…

… let me live 

just a little while longer -

- -

at the beginning of Outside, Ragnar Jonasson