Scene 1: Wandering the streets.

I lost track of time. Was it Sunday? Maybe Saturday? That would have explained why nobody was outside at ten am, the streets so empty. It was unfamiliar quiet in this northern city.

Festival goers in festival uniform passed by. Why do females wear matching outfits? Women not standing out, equality among us also in our style. Mediancracy, lifting all up or avoiding to be the nail that sticks out and gets hit. I couldn't decide.

White or black hot pants or short skirt. Simple white or black top. And boots. All wore black boots, nearly all the way up to the knee. Some flat, some with heel. My eyes only drawn to these boots. An army of them marched by.

A long flowing red skirt. Her friend in deep purple top. They stuck out. Days later I still remembered them.

Scene 2: Wooden cabin at the edge of the market.

I asked if she had the ring also smaller, hoping she sadly says no. Two minutes later we measured my finger. No commitment, no need to pay, she said. Sixteen point five is the size of my ring finger. Left hand.

I sometimes stroke the ring-free area with my thumb, noticing the lack of metal. It has been like that for nearly ten years but its barrenness still surprises me. Since March 2026, I have been looking to decorate it with metal. I remember July 2019, a market in Alicante. I tried a ring and was swept away by grief. Ashamed and surprised I bought earrings instead. Red, shiny metallic ones made from discarded metal.

Scene 3: Sitting in the bus.

I was not left to my own devices. X turned out to be a ride from the owner of the cabin. Human kindness shoved down my throat. We get you a ring that fits. We get you a ride. We get you a lift to town to buy groceries.

What will you do in Finland? I am asked. Nothing came my reply. Detoxing humanity, I answered slyly, opening the door for a conversation not far enough to invite a stranger in.

Scene 4: In the cabin.

Will I get used to the silence I wondered? Thankfully, the radio pushed it away, humanity making itself heard.

It was Friday.