When the Cranes Fly South

by Lisa Ridzén

used to go without socks for half the year, and I’d be in shorts from the start of May, but these days I’m freezing all the time. The doctors and carers tell me that’s just what happens. That it’s normal. It doesn’t matter that the weather is getting warmer—I’m going to keep lighting the fire.

I’ve noticed from the way people reply to my questions that I’m getting forgetful. It really seems to bother Hans. “You just asked that,” he always snaps.

Ingrid never makes me feel silly like that.