Iceland review - 2019, Blaðsíða 125

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Iceland Review
Location: Behind Icelandair Hotel Reykjavík Natura at Reykjavík Airport
Six destinations
with year-round
possibilities
Experience the excitement of Iceland’s
pure nature or get a bird’s-eye view of
the country’s most beautiful places
For more information, pick up our brochure at your hotel
or local tourist information centre, or visit eagleair.is
eagleair.is | +354 562 4200 | info@eagleair.is
Bíldudalur
Gjögur
Reykjavík
Vestmannaeyjar
Höfn
Húsavík
Westman Islands
One of the wonders of nature,
surrounded by mountains,
islands, volcanoes and seabirds.
Vatnajökull Region
Witness the majestic power
of Europe’s largest glacier or
conquer Iceland’s highest peak.
North Iceland
Visit Húsavík and Mývatn
area, and witness the natural
wonders of North Iceland.
The Westfjords
Explore one of the country’s
most isolated regions, rich
in natural wonders.
mother slams her fist onto the table, smushing it.
Meanwhile, the son drifts around the kitchen, bran-
dishing the magazine like a gladiator. He swats the
air frantically and yips at his mother.
– So, what’s the story? Weren’t you going to spray
for them?
– Sure, I was, yeah.
– Yeah!
– We don’t have any insecticide.
– Figure something out.
*
That night, a furry creature prowls around the
statue garden on the hill. It clambers up onto a
concrete pillar and cuddles up in the arms of a
winged statue until its knees are stiff from the
cold. It jumps down out of the statue’s arms and
rubs some warmth into its knees. It bolts out of the
garden, through the iron gate, and out onto the
street. It walks slowly, dragging its hands along
walls and fences. The creature arrives at the street
corner; the streetlamp is broken. It kicks at it but
stops when it notices a movement in the corrugated
iron house on the other side of the street. There’s
a person in the living room taking their clothes off.
They jump around, screaming and yowling until
finally, they ignite. They struggle around the room,
engulfed in flames, and everything they touch
catches fire. The curtains are the first dominoes
to fall. The creature outside stands stock-still and
watches a stranger die. The windows cloud over
with soot and obscure the death throes. Inside the
house, floor carpets are swallowed whole by the
conflagration. The wallpaper blazes and the cor-
rugated iron billows out. The furry creature walks
a few steps backwards and then runs in the other
direction.
*
The shop assistant is hanging garments on a rack
and sees that one hanger is empty. He bends down,
his face rubbing against the soft fur. Under normal
circumstances, he would have liked the feeling, but
the shop assistant is stressed. He gropes around
but grabs nothing but empty air. One of the furs is
gone. The man instinctively rushes to the counter
with the leather gloves, but he doesn’t see anything
wrong there.
*
The teenager stands in a corner store. He’s got
a medal around his neck and a coupon for a free
hamburger in his hand. Everyone who took part got
a medal. Meaningless and golden, the medal hangs
on synthetic ribbon in the colours of the national
flag. It encircles the thick neck of the teenager,
who had nothing better to do that day than walk
through town pretending to have taken part in a
marathon. Maybe he thinks it’s an achievement to
have bluffed his way into a medal.
Maybe he doesn’t get that it’s not a tribute to
anything he’s done.
Maybe he’s standing dead-eyed in a corner store
with a coupon for a free hamburger in his hand and a
meaningless medal around his neck.
A teenage girl wearing a fur coat walks into the
shop. She orders fries and sits on a high stool at the
wooden counter. The teenager watches her take
a paper towel from the roll and wipe the counter
off with it. He himself drags his hand across the
counter, swiping crumbs into his mouth with his
pinky.
*
The son stands in the garden with a big pile of
laundry in his arms. He puts it down in the grass
among the dandelions and hangs the wash up on
the clothesline. Every now and again, he catches the
scent of wet laundry. He’s looking forward to sitting
in the grass with a cup of coffee and watching the
white sheets and towels flapping in the wind. The
sun bathes the linens in rays of light that refract
through the whole garden, lighting it up.
When the son closes his eyes, the traffic all
around him sounds like a babbling brook. The air
is ice-cold, but spring has arrived. When the last
towel has been hung on the line, he sits back against
the wall of the house and warms himself in the sun.
The mother comes out with two cups of coffee and a
thermos and leans back in the grass, a book under
her hand.
Lóa Hjálmtýsdóttir is an illustrator and a singer. She lives in Reykjavík with her family. In
2016 she finished her Master's degree in Creative Writing from the University of Iceland.
Before that she studied illustration in Parson's New School for Design in NYC and a
finished a BFA at the Fine Art Department of the Icelandic Academy of the Arts. Lóa has
had four comic books published and released four albums with her band FM Belfast.
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