Stockholm Archipelago, Möja, Björndalens Naturreservat
Scene 7
The water was warm and emitted a sweetish scent – at once tantalising and dangerous, a bit like Black cardamom. At first he made his observations from the surface of the water, swimming diagonally across the water over the coordinates' point and circling the water lilies. Maille believed intuition was a particularly treacherous form of imagination. Here and now, nevertheless, he was convinced that he was at the right place, an important place – and though it yielded absolutely no insight, no clue to a solution, nothing that brought him to a proper trace. It was like when one chews on the fringe of a foodstuff, the flavour of which one knows distinctly – and yet one is unable to specify its aroma. The answer lies on the tip of one's tongue, but the word does not parry forth – and at some point one has to swallow and alas quash the flavour.