Photo of a beach

Living Room Stories : Swedish Living Room Story

A month or so ago I received an email from Tim Larsson about Living Room Stories. Tim wrote ‘I’m amazed I actually was able to get one at all. I love it, and it’s sweet and sad, hopeful but still sad. I could even relate to a few parts, and the stories awoke many feelings.’ Such feedback is great to receive and it is nice to hear what readers think. Even better was that Tim sent a copy of his own story inspired by Living Room Stories in Swedish. This led me to asking Frankie Sachs to translate it (Tim then made a couple of changes) and on reading the translation I was taken aback by the similarities in atmosphere between my stories and Tim’s. A sense of hope within hopelessness.

Thanks go to Tim for allowing me to share his story and to Frankie Sachs for the translation. Tim has a blog, which Tim describes as a quiet little blog. I like the midnight doodle and hope there will be posts. Whilst you catch Frankie Sachs at The Amazing Frankie, who is also behind the fab New Sun Rising: Stories for Japan charity anthology project.

Here is the story.

Jag drömde en dröm, och i denna dröm fanns det ingen färg.

I dreamt a dream, and in this dream there was no colour.

Jag var i ett färglöst rum, såg en färglös tavla, en färglös hylla, en färglös matta.

I was in a colourless room, saw a colourless painting, a colourless shelf, a colourless rug.

Jag satt på en färglös säng, betraktade allt runt omkring mig, i en färglös värld.

I sat on a colourless bed, observed everything surrounding me, in a colourless world.

Reste mig upp, för att titta ut genom mitt fönster. Det var mörkt, gatlyktornas sken var dovt.

I rose to look out through my window. It was dark, the street lights glowed dim.

Färglösa löv rörde sig långsamt längs marken, det blåste. Sensommar.

Colourless leaves drifted slowly along the ground, the wind blew. The end of summer.

Ut genom dörren, ner för trappan, ut i den varma natten. Lyktorna var långt ifrån varandra.

Out through the door, down the stairs, out in the warm night. The lights were far from each other.

Följde ljuset, för att finna värmen. Fanns inga byggnader i närheten. Fanns inga träd. Inga staket.

Followed the lights, to seek the warmth. There were no buildings around. There were no trees. No fences.

Löven blåste i samma riktning som jag gick.

The leaves blew in the same direction I walked.

Längre fram stod ett hus, ett stort färglöst hus. Badade i ljus.

Further away stood a house, a big colourless house. Bathed in light.

Jag måste dit.

I had to go there.

Jag gick snabbt, men huset var lika långt bort konstant.

I went quickly, but the house was always the same distance.

Jag började springa. Färglösa ljuskäglor ven förbi mig.

I began to run. Colourless circles of light whipped past me.

Jag kom fram. Trygghet. Värme. Gick runt huset och fann en stad.

I arrived. Safety. Warmth. Walked around the house and found a city.

Gick bland gränderna, kände den färglösa väggens textur skrapa mot mina fingrar. Blåsten hade slutat.

Walked among the alleys, felt the texture of the colourless walls scrape against my fingers. The wind had stopped.

Ser ett rött stänk av vattenfärg fryst i luften. Ett yvigt penseldrag som försvinner in bakom ett hörn.

See a red spatter of watercolour frozen in the air. A bushy brush mark that disappears around a corner.

Hjärtat börjar slå. Färg. Följer efter, långsamt, försiktigt.

My heart begins to pound. Colour. Following it, slowly, carefully.

Färgen fortsätter genom flera gränder, och jag följer långsamt efter.

The colour continues through many alleys, and I follow it slowly.

Intensiteten i det röda strecket tilltar för varje steg, för varje hörn, för varje gränd.

The intensity of the red streak grows with every step, with every corner, with every alley.

I en färglös värld, i en färglös stad, i en färglös gränd kommer jag fram till penseldragets början.

In a colourless world, in a colourless city, in a colourless alley I come to the brush stroke’s beginning.

Där står du.

There you stand.

Posted: 8 May 2019