If a human being closes her eyes hard and long enough, she can remember all the times she has made a choice in her life just for her own sake. And realize, perhaps, that it has never happened. If she drives a white car with a blue door slowly down a road through a village, while it's still dark, and if she winds down the window and takes deep breaths, then she can remember all the men she has fallen in love with.

Alf. Kent. Sven. One who deceived her and left her. Another who deceived her and was left by her. A third who is many things she has never had, but possibly none of the ones she has been longing for. And she can slowly, slowly, slowly unwrap the bandage from her hand and look at the white mark on her ring finger. While dreaming of first love and other chances, and weighing up forgiveness against love. Counting the beats of her heart.

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