Malin Stoltz suddenly became aware again and discovered she had a plastic shopping bag in her hand. She must have been to the shops. She did not even remember going outside. She looked around. She was outdoors. The last thing she remembered was a strange dream. An angel had come for her. She would not have to be here much longer, it was just as she had planned, but after that she did not remember very much. She opened the bag and peered inside it. Four boxes of eggs and a loaf of bread. Good Lord.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it scared her just as much all the same. One time she woke up on a tram. Another time she’d been on her way to Tøyenbadet Swimming Pool. She took a deep breath and sat down on a bench. Perhaps she ought to go see her doctor again. She hated going to the doctor’s, but perhaps it was about time. The blackouts had become more frequent, especially on the days she didn’t go to work; as long as she was at work, she could manage, but at home was another matter. Where she had to be herself. That was the tricky part. She was pleased that it would soon be all over. Not long to go now. Soon she could rest. Soon she wouldn’t have to go on being Malin Stoltz. Or Maiken Storvik. Or Marit Stoltenberg. She tried focusing on the walk home, but images kept cropping up in her head. She tried concentrating on her shopping bag instead. She touched the plastic. That was tangible, wasn’t it? It was here? Yes, it felt real. She looked down at herself. Matching shoes. Very good. Pants. Excellent. T-shirt and a thin sweater over it. She had done well. She hadn’t gone outside naked. She’d gotten herself dressed. She was a little cold, that was all, but at least she was dressed. She patted herself to warm up and tried once again to conjure up images of how to get from the bench back to her apartment. She looked at the shopping bag again. It said REMA SUPERMARKET. She had been to Rema. To get home from Rema, she had to walk past the pizzeria. She looked around and saw a neon sign on the corner. Pizzeria Milano. She knew the way from there. Well, kind of. She rose quickly from the bench and crossed the street. She was very chilly now. She wanted to get home as quickly as possible. She did not want to catch a cold. If she had a cold, she could not go to work—they were strict about that. The old people were frail. They could not have germs at the nursing home. She reached the pizzeria and paused while she scouted for the next landmark. The one-way street. Walk in the opposite direction of oncoming traffic. Down the street with the red sign with the white bar. She saw the sign and aimed for it, but then she stopped.
Something was wrong. Something was not right. The neighborhood seemed different. Different from how it usually was in the morning. There were no people in the parks. There were no people sitting in their cars, looking around. Slowly it dawned on her. Very slowly. Then she realized it.
She dropped the shopping bag on the pavement, spun around, and started running down the street in the opposite direction.