Swedes are the perfect backdrop for solitary silliness. My iPod and I have gone skating everyday this week on the waterfront, zipping past old men and their dogs and determined runners. Whenever I hit a patch where I am out of eyesight my iPod and I begin a choreographed dance- backwards, sideways, turn, jump- and invariably it is when my bladed feet touch concrete that I notice someone is watching me, turn bright red, and skate away as quickly as possible.
Come skating with me. We can dance together.
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