Fiskanes
found this old text I had written some time back, it's a short story
Honestly, I don't understand why people like this country. The weather isn't like what you would see in post cards, even though that seems to be the impression foreigners have. Unfortunately, the reality is a lot less… good. It just rains all the time, and looking at the library from this point of view is certainly not doing it any favours. Sure, some idealist in the 70s probably thought those red bricks just had to be placed there with those blue metal things that I think are supposed to be arches? I doubt that that architect thought about the fact that metal has a weird tendency to rust when exposed to rain, and that we just so happen to live in the place in Europe where it rains the most. Funny coincidences, am I right? Not to mention the massive parking lot that that never fills up and just absolutely had to be there, it really sells the beauty of the town.
At least you can look between the buildings and over the fjord, there you've got some mountains to look at. It's a bit difficult for architects to fuck that one up, though they certainly have tried. Their favourite hobby seems to be building more and more roads and blowing up more and more forests to make way for said roads. Also, who could forget Veststaal? Ah yes, the reason we're all here, the reason I'm here in this parking lot thinking about how architects don't have to live with the consequences of their actions. That's the shit foreigners don't see.
You know, someday I'd like to grab some cow manure and make a bomb out of it or something and blow up that factory, like Breivik did. That way we wouldn't have to be here. Actually, no, I don't wanna blow it up. You see over there? On the other side of the parking lot? That's the shit Breivik should've tasted, Kebab. If there's a god he's working over there. Breivik should've tasted it, perhaps he'd decide that killing a bunch of kids just because they didn't hate people with funny surnames wasn't the bestest of ideas. Also, if I blew up the factory (which I'd never be able to do to be fair), Sadiq would have to move and I'd be left kebabless. Acutally no, he hiked up the prices lately so I guess I can live without it. Back to dreaming about doing a terrorism! Let's continue doing that inside the library for now, I still gotta return this book.
Who decided that the ceiling had to be so high up? They're using regular sized bookcases so it's not that they need it. Damn, that architect really must have had some complex up in his mind or something.
"Hei, kan eg hjelpa deg meg nåko?" said one of the librarians, haven't met her before. She surprised me sorta, but tbh I am kinda jumpy. "Nei takk, men takk for tilbudet" I said, while sorta regretting it. I wanted to say "yes! I want your help! Could you help me find xyz type of book? I have no friends so I just want to escape the world and live in a fantasy for some time. Unfortunately I don't know any drug dealers, so the next best thing is to get my daily dose of escapism!" I'd have to rephrase it slightly, since no one actually wants to hear what you think, since if you do you get sent to a therapist for "help". Anyways, I'll just stroll along for a bit here. Ah, there is the checkout section.
"Hei, ka kan eg hjelpa deg me'?" she said with a smile on her face. "Ja, jeg har bare tenkt til å levere denne i dag her." I said. "Eitt augeblikk så ska me få gjort da so fint atte" … "Sånn! No får du ha ein fin dag vijare!" "Takkiligemåde" I said, hurrying along.