WHEN THE SUN DID NOT SET

9:30pm~

The road to Abisko is winding ahead of us. Clouds have gathered overhead and the little one cuddles closer to me in the backseat of the car.

Up ahead, he has squeezed through some clouds and lit up the road.

A baby reindeer makes an appearance by the side of the road. My brother slows down the car and we hold our breath. My sister-in-law reaches for her phone but it scampers away back into the grass.

12:15 am~

We are at Abisko, at the base of Aurora Sky station. We pile on the woollies we have carried with us. The ski lift that will take us up to the Sky Station, a few hundred feet up the mountain, is an open bench on moving ropes and our Indian temperament is already half-frozen.

The clouds have blanketed the sky entirely.

Have you broken your solstice oath and laid down in bed, I look up.

He pierces the clouds, splits into seven colours and frowns, No.

2:00 am~

We settle into the ski lift in twos and descend back towards the base.

The clouds and he have had a breakthrough. They are holding back and he lights up the mountains, the lake, the world.

About time, I roll my eyes. This is your day to shine.

4:00 am~

I crawl into bed. It’s been a long day.

The longest, he peeps through my window. And the next one is on the horizon.