When I heard the sound, I thought it was a stack of dishes crashing on to the cafe floor. Turning, I expected to see a flipped tray. What I saw instead was empty chairs and bodies crouched beneath tables. People had their hands interlaced across their bent heads, as though bracing for a plane’s rough landing.
It was the summer of 2022. I was on holiday in Stockholm with my friends and former college roommates Allie and Sherry. The afternoon was wet and bleak, with blasts of wind that blew the rain sideways. We had finished touring the Royal Palace and were in search of sustenance. Sherry found a nearby cafe and we ran down puddled sidewalks with our jackets held over our heads.
