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Wild Swims

Dorthe Nors
Chapters (21)
  1. Praise
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. IN A DEER STAND
  6. SUN DOGS
  7. HYGGE
  8. BY SYDVEST STATION
  9. BETWEEN OFFICES
  10. THE FAIRGROUND
  11. COMPACTION BIRDS
  12. PERSHING SQUARE
  13. HONEYSUCKLE
  14. ON NARROW PAVED PATHS
  15. INSIDE ST. PAUL’S
  16. THE FREEZER CHEST
  17. MANITOBA
  18. WILD SWIMS
  19. PUSHKIN PRESS
  20. ALSO BY DORTHE NORS
  21. COPYRIGHT
cover

Praise

1

praise for dorthe nors

“Nors’s reinvention of experimental fiction is marvellous”

Guardian

“Dorthe Nors is a writer of moments – quiet, raw portraits of existential meditation, at times dyspeptic, but never unsympathetic”

Paris Review

“There’s something about the deceptive simplicity of Dorthe Nors’s stories that floors me”

Red

“One of Denmark’s most inventive and acclaimed contemporary writers”

Bookanista

“Nors has found her own space away from Copenhagen’s literati… Her words whip along, each idea cascading into the next. It’s like having a window into someone else’s thoughts”

Independent

“Dorthe Nors knows how to capture the smallest moments and sculpt them into the unforgettable”

Oprah

“Nors manages to condense the essence of life”

Spectator

2

Title Page

Dedication

5

You can always withdraw
a little bit further

6

7

CONTENTS

  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. In a Deer Stand
  4. Sun Dogs
  5. Hygge
  6. By Sydvest Station
  7. Between Offices
  8. The Fairground
  9. Compaction Birds
  10. Pershing Square
  11. Honeysuckle
  12. On Narrow Paved Paths
  13. Inside St. Paul’s
  14. The Freezer Chest
  15. Manitoba
  16. Wild Swims
  17. About the Publisher
  18. Also by Dorthe Nors
  19. Copyright

8

9

IN A DEER STAND

10 11

IT’S A QUESTION OF TIME. SOONER OR LATER, SOMEBODY will show up. Even dirt tracks like these can’t stay deserted forever. The farm he passed when he entered the area must be inhabited. The people who live there must go for walks sometimes. And the deer stand is probably the farmer’s, and it’s just a question of time before it starts raining. The vegetation on the ground is dry. Some twiggy bushes, some heather too. To the right, a thicket; to the left, the start of a tree plantation. The dirt road must go in there for a reason, so someone comes here now and then. Take him, for instance, he came this way. Just yesterday, even if it feels longer. The circumstances make it feel longer. It’s likely that his ankle’s broken, though it’s also possible that it’s just a sprain. The pain isn’t constant. There is some swelling. Now he sits here and he has no phone. She must be in pieces back home. He can imagine it. Walking around with his phone in her hand, out in the utility room. She’s standing there with it in her hand. She curses him for not taking it. He supposes the police will be involved soon. Maybe they already have been for some time now. It’s probably been on the local radio; that he’s forty-seven, that he drives a BMW, that he left home in a depressed state. He can’t bear the thought of them saying those last words. She just wasn’t supposed to win every battle. 12