“...You did this?” I asked, my eyes growing wide.As I’d explained to Marie following several tortuous interrogations, set design aside, Peter Mu...grave was an authentic artist. At fourteen he’d started welding metal sculptures at his Father’s salvage yard in Halifax. But this was the first piece of his I’d seen in person. It was impressive—and imposing.“So, what’s it supposed to be?” I baited him shyly, asking the question said to rankle postmodern sculptors.“Can’t you tell?” he grinned, “It’s a. Pernilla was tired when we arrived, so tired that she didn’t even accuse me of trying to feel up her tits when I helped her take of her backpack. She did complain when I forced her to stretch though. Dinner was once again silent and I washed up while Pernilla slept. From Kisuris to Låddejåkkå is long day’s hike for a beginner, twenty-three kilometres and I was concerned that Pernilla wouldn’t make it in one day. She was adamant though that she wasn’t going back over that bridge alone. I was. More

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