I went to Stengade with some friends last night. We got inside and my friends went upstairs and I stayed downstairs and listened to the band, Littl’ans.
I danced alone and lost myself for a little while. Then I went backstage and found myself in the middle of a foodfight with Swedes and Danes pitched against the English.
Afterwards I went to look for my friends but I couldn’t find them. I danced a bit more on my own and then left.
Outside, a heavy blanket of snow had settled on Copenhagen. Cars were abandoned mid-street, pretty couples in heels and pumps struggled home.
Taxis ambled along Nørrebrogade, gathering up the stragglers.
In Jagtvej, two bare-chested teenage boys were chucking snowballs up at their mates atop Ungdomshuset.
The sounds of their glee rang hollow and clear down the empty street, following me as far as Jægersborggade.
I got into bed and slept.