The Swenglish Home

A suitable case...?

This black beauty just sat there in the second-hand shop the other day, looking very black, very beautiful and as if it had more than one captivating story to tell. As I happened to be in a story-listening kind of mood that day, I quickly decided that this suitcase, once the property of someone with the initials F.I., would accompany me on my journey home. Named journey is about a six-minute walk, seven if the wind is against you or you are distracted by the bakery on the way, but Black Beauty did not seem to mind the lack of exotic paths or bustling stations.

I cannot help but wonder, though, where it has been before. What has it seen, where has it travelled? Has it seen pain or just happy holiday makers on its journeys?





The Coronet Cine Camera (found among the heirlooms of the man in the house) seemed to enjoy shaking leather with somebody of a more mature composition. I then invited a pair of antique spectacles and a few old Swedish books, and the geriatric party was well on its way.

None of us are getting any younger, I suppose... But dear old Mark Twain made a beautiful point: Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been...

So, wrinkly greetings to you all!