Här är syrrans 'moddade' berättelse från när hon gick i nian.
Metro
The floor is covered in spit, chewing gum and God knows what. I’m lying on the filthy floor all by myself, trying to cope with the unbearable smell. It's a sick mix between a cat’s litter box and cheap Russian liquor. I’m trying really hard to enjoy the bumpy subway ride. My front page hasn’t got dirty, so I haven’t panicked, yet. Things could be worse.
Hopefully that young man sitting by the window will pick me up. Yes! Yes! The young man gets up! But he doesn’t slow down to pick me up. He isn’t stopping and he steps on my front page! I just hope nobody saw that. Did I hear laughter? Oh no, yuck! A bunch of Sthlm City newspapers saw the embarrassing episode.
I’m starting to get upset, I hate the Stockholm City gang. Hmm, I’m going to ignore their laughter, its better if I focus on something else. I know! I can count how many dope heads there are in this wagon. One, two, three, four…What do we have here? A high heeled foxy business woman with red lipstick and long nails. Nails! Oh no, not nails... It hurts my pages. But then again the pain would be nothing in comparison with the rush I'd get if she read me and sighed about the horrible news. Why is the nail woman walking past me?
No! she is picking up a cocky Sthlm City paper from a dirty seat! What more could go wrong today? And by the way, where are all the crazy people? The ones who read the obituary notices, at least with them I feel useful.
Now I’m really getting depressed. Maybe I’ll get lucky with the nice wrinkly old man that is peeking at me. Yes! He is picking me up, oh joyful world! Wait, you've got to be kidding me. Picking your nose at the subway and using me to cover it up? Gramps, you disgust me.
I’m very angry, but I have to at least calm down for the stunning, grouchy red head that is staring at me. Hopefully this young girl might want to read me. I got some hilarious comics today. Damn. She’s getting off the train. Pity, I really had some great comics. Snoopy’s birthday was coming up and the funny looking yellow bird was going to the supermarket.
The girl interrupts my thoughts when she unexpectedly says:
– Life is hell.
Little girl, what can be so bad about your life? Think of me, I will probably end up in a recycling bin with Sthlm City papers, or worse, what if a hobo that hasn’t showered since the 80’s uses me as a quilt.
Don’t be so trouble minded, I got an ad about it somewhere here. Anti depressive pills recommended by every doctor in town. Sounds about right don't you think?
Hmm, I should shut up. Maybe you are right:
– Life is hell…
