I'm so happy to have another Moomin postcard in my collections.
Paula told me that she store her postcards in a big metallic tea box.
Before we left, Grandmother talked a lot about the arctic night we would fly through. ‘Isn’t it a mystical word, “arctic”? Pure and quite hard. And meridians. Isn’t that pretty? We’re going to fly along them, faster than the light can follow us… Time won’t be able to catch us.