June by Dag Straumsvåg They stand before the priest, never happier or more heroic than this moment. The bride spots a fly crawling across the nose of the crucified Jesus, and sneezes before she can answer. A mother stares at her child and can’t remember the father. Across the street, a man balances on a stool and washes his store window. A motorcycle cruises by. The priest looks up. There’s a light drizzle. Good weather for fishing he thinks. He likes to fish, likes to stay out all day, even in the wind and pouring rain, even if the lake is empty. Out there, fishing, everything is of interest. Minnows, an old boot, the bottom. Translated from the Norwegian by Robert Hedin
