Swedish story world
Page 1 of 7
Into the wood
The forest began right at the end of the path. In Sweden you may walk into almost any forest, so Flori and Luna walked into this one.
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Under the leaves
Under the low green leaves, hiding, were blueberries. Not on a shelf. Not in a box. Just there, for anyone who looked.
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One for the pail
One went into the little pail. One went into Flori’s mouth. One went into the pail. Two went into Flori’s mouth.
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Blue hands, blue chin
By the time the pail was half full, Flori’s fingers were blue. So was his chin. So, somehow, was one of Luna’s ears.
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A big flat stone
They sat on a big flat stone, warm from the sun. The forest was very quiet. Somewhere far off a bird said one thing, and then stopped.
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Fika
There is a Swedish word for stopping like this, with something warm and something sweet. Fika. It is not a snack grabbed on the way. It is a small pause, on purpose.
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Home the long gold way
They carried the pail home through the long gold evening. It was heavy now, and neither of them minded that at all. ‘Sov gott,’ said Flori — sleep well.