Page 21 - NEWEST MILK (TRANSLATION) - New chapters included - word. (1)-konverteret_Specific
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architectural style, other than that, there is just massive old mansions that char-

                   acterize the area. His GPS tells him that in about a hundred meters he must turn
                   left. As he is looking around from inside the car, he notices that never before has

                   he experienced Strandvejen this quiet. He has only seen two cars since Hellerup.

                   On King George's road is shining bright with so much snow on it; Tom is now
                   very careful with his driving, and slowly moves through the snowdrifts. His GPS

                   is showing that he has to get down to the end of the road. As he reaches the end,

                   white buildings appear and his GPS shows that he is about to meet his desired
                   destination. He makes a turn into he into the parking lot and parks the car be-

                   tween two SUV’s. He gets out of his vehicle and crosses the road in a brisk mo-
                   tion, towards one of the white houses. As he’s treading along his ends up sticking

                   his leg en a pile of snow; shit, he didn’t see it. Before he decides to go any further,

                   he stops and cleans his boot.
                    "Good evening " He jumps up in surprise.

                   A female voice right behind him continues as he turns around: “Are you Tom Hal-

                   vorsen?”
                    She must have been there under one of the roofs next to the garbage containers.

                   "Eh, yeah. I am. And who might you be?” he answers back to woman. She walks a
                   few steps closer towards him, now the light from the wind trap illuminates her.

                   Tom makes a greeting gesture to her.

                   "How do you know?" he continues, slightly shaken. It bothers him that he did not
                   see her come – never leave your backside open. "Well, my name is Inge-Lise, I

                   have been waiting for you. Come along now," says the old woman.

                   "Well, wha-" He doesn’t get to finished the sentence, before she starts moving.
                   She leads him on to the big white house, which is a posh nursing home. She

                   pushes a big red button and two glass doors moves aside, granting them en-

                   trance to the complex The two glass sliding doors slide back in place behind, as
                   the walk in to the small foyer of the nursing home.

                   "Welcome. So, this is my place – temporarily," Inge-Lise says, smiling.

                   Now he can fully see her. She is a tall and slender woman with a neatly shaped
                   face with two large vibrant blue eyes. She brushes the snow off her brown black

                   mink coat with elegant movements. No way she could be 91, he thinks to himself.
                   Maybe 70.
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