Dark Pines

That’s my news. That’s it. Derived from rumour and council minutes and eavesdropping in the local pharmacy. It may sound pedestrian but its what my readers want. How many times have you torn out an article from a national paper and stuck it to your fridge? How many times have you cut out a piece from your local paper, maybe your daughter scoring in a hockey match or your neighbour growing the town’s longest carrot, and stuck that to your fridge? My readers give a shit and because of that, so do I.

‘You get a story like this maybe once a decade in a town like Gavrik and you gotta make the most of it. Now, I see you’re working long hours and covering all the bases and that’s great. But you need to think about the printed word. What you write in the next issue will remain. Those words will stick around. For ever. You need to write well and with purpose and with courage. Your articles will follow you around whether you like it or not. So stay focussed on the story and on the local perspective, don’t get too fancy or too speculative. I want it direct, I want it relevant, and I want it so you’re still proud of it when you’re my age, yes?’

The shops don’t open until lunch and then only for two or three hours. They’ll all be at handball practice or hockey training or grocery shopping at ICA Maxi. I say grocery shopping, but people here in Gavrik buy pretty much everything they ever buy from the supermarket. Clothes, garden supplies, fresh flowers, prescription drugs, small pieces of furniture, toys. And food. With only a few exceptions, this is why everyone dresses, smells, eats, and looks, roughly the same, albeit on different days of the week.