These
are the people of Solheimar. These are the people that teach me
íslensku, twirl me around the room, and laugh at me when I butcher
their language. They are the reason that I'm able to wake up in the
morning even when it is pitch black and bone-numbing cold, knowing
Christian will greet me with a huge hug and a kiss and hoping that I
will be able to squeeze a smile out of Runar. And when I leave in tólf days, it will be a sjaumst rather than a bless bless.
-Noga
-Noga
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