The first day of autumn

The first day of autumn

The morning was still young. He stood staring in front of the mirror. Something was wrong.

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Drøset is an oblique viewpoint written by selected journalists at Aftenbladet.

He was going to work for the first time in six weeks, and was already terrified. The key card for the mission was gone, and he was unable to access the computer.

Two days earlier, he had asked for the so-called recovery key because it did not accept any of the passwords he had tried when he was going to watch the match between Chelsea and his purchased Liverpool team.

So he was ready for a sharp start.

But something messed up. more. He didn’t know what. Look in the mirror. Nothing has changed since the day before.

Then he should take a shower for the first time with an allergic nasal spray. under the left arm.


The feeling was twofold. He was relieved to have found out what was wrong. He stood there for several seconds with nasal spray under his arm, ready for the first dose, and two brain cells tried to sound the alarm.

But this could be another sign of primary dementia. A few days ago, he had first taken a glass of beer from the fridge, placed it on the kitchen table, and then put half his body inside the fridge in an intense search for the same bottle of beer, the one he thought he had just seen.

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He hoped he hadn’t forgotten his way to work. It should have worked.

Heavy rain. The raincoat he had had for twenty years was in neither likely nor improbable places. He couldn’t ride without it, so he had to take the bus. Free, thank God. If he finds out how to order those things.

He can fix that at the bus stop. He started having a bad time. You can never be late for the first fall day at work. But there was half a meter of water inside the bus shelter, so he had to stand outside and wait for the bus, which arrived ten minutes late.

The next day started much better. He found a bike in the city and got to work just in time. When the workday was over, he found neither the key to his bike in his pocket nor the bike in the cage at work. since he was home. Since he took the bus the day before, because he couldn’t find the twenty-year-old’s rain pants.


Dalila Awolowo

Dalila Awolowo

"Explorer. Unapologetic entrepreneur. Alcohol fanatic. Certified writer. Wannabe tv evangelist. Twitter fanatic. Student. Web scholar. Travel buff."

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