Prince Pi and I

I sit in a café, waiting for Hero, and watch the snow drizzle on a nearby lamppost. It’s dark outside. My mind is tired, and I want to find a big room in the castle, with a big soft bed, and sleep till the sun wakes me up. Hero picks me up, and we fly back to the city.

I fall asleep in the airport, Hero wakes me up and says; hey have a coffee and a chocolate cake. We talk about Dragon. I try to be discrete, but I can’t hide my anticipation, and he can do nothing but consol me; it will all be ok in the end. And I wonder, how can anything be ok without him there?

Tomorrow Prince Pi will find me in one of the big beds, fallen asleep with my dress still on, and he will wake me before the sun, because that’s when real life starts.

All photographs by me.

I stop talking as we drive over the bridge. Does it take us to the correct side? At least to the side with the most memories. In reality there is no need for a bridge, because the water is frozen like steal, and we could have drove right over the ice. But I guess public busses don’t do that.

It is too pretty to talk. The sun blends my eyes. It is low, in a couple of hours it will sett, even tough it is not that late. We live too far north to enjoy much of the sun, Prince Pi says, but I think the sun is most beautiful at this slow almost weary sinking.

I’m trying to imagine what tomorrow will be like, but it’s as if I’m in a different gear now, on my way to The Top of The World with Baptist and two other pretty ones, at the end of a weekend literarily being nothing but a joyous song, and the daily reality back west is too far away to even picture.

We have to run between the concert hall and the cafeteria. Strolling and taking in the wonderful view is out of the question, because it is so cold.

We sing, eat and sleep; I say when Prince Pi calls to ask what we’re up to. But in reality, we do so much more. I meet more wonderful people than my limited sociality can handle, and I’ll have to process their greatness long after I’m back home.

We do a concert so filled with energy and smiles, I am afraid to ceiling is going to jump off and fly.

I have left everything behind at home. Everything that worried me is forgotten, because, here, in the Far East, everything seems to work out. Magnificent, isn’t it?

Everyone leaves, already wishing for the next reunion, and I whisper ‘please come back’ every time I wave goodbye to a new face.

Photograph by me.

Prince came back, and took me away. I had been solitude for so long, in a castle that was always in seclusion.

So he took me to a city where all the houses were playing dress-up.

Obviously, they all want to be princes and princesses.

So they put on the favorite dresses and costumes.

And became an entire city of a castles.

All photographs by us.

I go crazy with electrical tape and disposable cameras, and suddenly, I have built a new lens. Prince Pi calls from the island while I photograph flowers.

How are you? he asks. Cold, I reply.

They glow, I say, but he doesn’t understand. Your flowers glow through my new lens, I explain. They glow like his smile, but I don’t tell him that.

Are you ok? he asks, and his voice sounds pitiful or concerned. But I can’t trust the sound of his voice, so I tell him I water them every day. His orchids are fine.

Cupcake, I miss you he wipers. I can barely hear his words, but the sound of pity is still there. When will you come home? I beg.

All photographs SOOC by me, with a diy lens.

We could have lived in a glass palace. Prince Pi and I could have lived so that everyone could have seen. Would you have liked that better?

Instead we live far into the forest, behind high walls and tightly closed doors. Not a soul knows where we are.

I would have liked it when the sun not only twinkled in through the blends, but shone straight at us, no matter the time of the day.

But you shouldn’t throw rocks in a glass house. And we all throw rocks from time to time. So we hide, far in to the woods, and rocks fly through the air like birds on a clear sky, but no one cares.

All photography by us.

Prince Pi is not here, so I left too. I went to Madrid, to see some of the most amazing people in this world, and to fall in love with another city.

Every morning we got Coffee con Leche, the most delicious and milky coffee.

We walked through narrow streets and explored.

We discovered cute old hallways.

We visited magnificent cathedrals.

We took the train in the sunshine.

We toured grand palaces.

We spotted rainbows in the fountains.

And we peaked in through keyholes and windows.

There are two boys in the grade below me, two completely ordinary looking guys, who mess around like the rest of their friends, and are the coolest of cool.

But I know their secret.

There is a piano down in the basement of our school. It is mostly left alone; no one really cares about the old box.

But I know its secret.

If one stays behind after class, and wait for the big old buildings to slowly become empty, one can, from time to time, hear subtle tones from the basement.

They teach each other how to play, the two boys from a grade below me, and they are good. Really good.

I sometimes sit in the stairs to the basement and listen to them play; Comptine D’un Autre Ètè, Láprès-Midi from Amelie from Montmartre is my favourite. They don’t know I’m there; they would probably never play for me. But I know their secret now.

Our christmas tree is ornamented with angels.

All photographs are taken by us.

Prince Pi has been packing for months. Yesterday he took a part of the castle and flew off to the sun island. I am all alone in the rest of the castle, I think.

Photography by Susanne Ludwig.