An opaque door bore the newspaper's name in gothic blackletter. Inside, a well dressed, middle aged journalist named Bjorn greeted me at the offices with a friendly smile and we sat down to talk about my story. His pen busy as we talked, taking notes for an article that would be in the paper eventually. I was excited to see the project gather interest in this remote place and tried to get my facts straight. Not always easy when many facts are still missing.
In my mind I had a fantasy that I would find the store and apologize to the man who caught me stealing. Maybe telling him what actually happened that day. Some things it would seem, will just have to remain fantasies.