In heaven, everything is fine

I spent a long weekend in Paris and Lyon, having a date day with my wife and visiting an old friend. I walked 45 km in three days, had interesting conversations, ate delicious food and drank good wine, and went to a market to buy too much cheese.

Now I’m back in Iceland; and it feels like I have been to heaven; and been embraced by warmth and love; and have had all my needs and desires fulfilled; and have been ripped away and shoved back into flesh; and I just want whoever keeps thumping on my chest to stop and let me go back.

No, you’re being dramatic.

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