The Hat
I walked her home and to the back-door where she lived. There was nothing else or anything more remarkable about it.
Goodbye, and thank you for walking me home, she said.
Bye, I said.
Your Hat!
It’s better off that way, I said, and carried on taking leave of the girl.
By Jón Thoroddsen
Translated from the Icelandic by Chris Crocker
Chris Crocker is a PhD student of medieval Icelandic literature at the University of Iceland. He was born in Newfoundland, Canada.Jón Thoroddsen was born in Ísafjörður, Iceland, in 1898. The son of the poet Theódóra Thoroddsen and Skúli Thoroddsen, an important figure in the independence movement, Thoroddsen died in Copenhagen at age 26 on New Year’s Eve, 1924, after having been struck by a street-car on Christmas day. During his lifetime he published a book of poetry, Flugur (Flies) in 1922, as well as several other plays, poems and short stories.