19 Nov 2014

6. Oona's morning

The autumn sneaked to Borough step by step. Mornings, the fresh air was mixed with a hint of fragrance of apples. Here and there you could see a thin trail of smoke climbing out of a chimney. If you walked through the market square you could smell fresh fish and coffee. Orange, red and yellow trees spotted the parks and gardens. The lake was foggy and mysterious.  
It was Wednesday and I was cycling to the University along the beach street when I saw Otto’s sister sitting on the sand near the shoreline. I jumped off the bicycle and walked to her. “Hey Oona. What are you doing here alone so early?” I asked.
She looked terrible. It was like a thin witch had growled from a cave to the surface of the earth. Well, she is a pretty girl, but this morning her hair was matted and make – up was messy. Her black gothic style clothes were dusty and dirty. She shivered.
She sighed and turned away without a word. I was sure that she had stayed on the beach for the night. “Ok, Oona. You don’t have to tell me anything. But, you must go home. Looks like you have a cold.” I said. She raised her blue eyes on me. “Buy me a coffee, Pete, will you?” “Of course, let’s go then.” I answered, and she got up and picked her rug sack from the sand.  When we got to the cycle path she sat onto the bike rack and I cycled us to the beach cafeteria. It was the quickest coffee pause ever. She did not say anything except “thanks” when she got the coffee. She drank it with one long sip and left. “Busy.” The cafĂ© seller said rolling her eyes.
I texted to Otto: “I met Oona, she has a problem”.
“What?” Otto asked.
“IDK, ask her.” I typed.

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