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About Reykjavik

So – picture this. Dark alley – neon buzzin’. I’m strollin’ – slow. Pausin’. Mid-step. Eyes dartin’ – seein’ EVERYTHING. Like that line from *Spotlight* – “We got two stories here.” One’s the hustle – cash for a quickie. Other’s the shadow – who’s watchin’? Cops? Pimps? Some creep with a camera? Ya never know – keeps me jumpy. Angry too – damn system’s rigged. Girls out here – trapped. While suits sip scotch – laughin’.

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Anyway, I’m laughing at this kid when I bump into this old lady. She’s got this wild hair and a shopping bag full of fish. “You’re a cooper, right?” she says. I’m like, “Yeah, how’d you know?” She just points at my hands, covered in wood shavings. “You look like you’ve been working hard.” I mean, I guess I have? But I’m not about to argue with a lady holding fish.

In Northern Iceland, Slowing Down to Appreciate Folklore and Nature’s Silence