There’s something so magical about 1 December. The advent calendars are opened for the first time, the advent candle is lit. Woven hearts appear in the windows and biscuit tins decorated with little Christmas elves get taken out of cupboards. Yes, I love Christmas.
This morning I was an hour early for my meeting at Google. I bought a coffee and walked around the centre of Copenhagen, just like I used to when I was in high school and showed up to find out I had a free period.
Except for the coffee, no one in the city had heard of latte or to-go back then.
A number 14 bus drove past me and all its windows were decorated for Christmas.
A couple wearing Santa hats got off the train and smiled at everyone they passed.
I didn’t want to go to my meeting; I just wanted to keep walking and watch the city come to life for another day. Find a café somewhere and just spend the day writing, losing myself in the soft Christmas music and the smell of cinnamon and vanilla.
When I got to Google, they were playing Christmas music.
They asked me what my super power was, and I told them it was telling stories.
They gave me a notebook.