1988

Pelle had been walking around town. It was late at night, but Pelle was craving a sweet treat extremely badly. He had been munching on brown sugar straight from the bag, but it wasn't enough. He missed the taste of Swedish cinnamon rolls. He'd walk down the sidewalk, under the yellowed streetlights. He was trying to find a bakery that would dare to be open at 2am, but so far his mission was being unsuccessful. He'd groan to himself, before stopping in his tracks to look around, hoisting his hand above his eyes to block the street lamps from shining in his eyes. Every building had their lights off, except for the gas station a few blocks away. He figured he'd just get some junk food and call it a day. As he pushed open the gas station doors, the bell above the door would jangle. The cashier, a middle-aged heavier man, would greet him as he entered. "Velkommen," The man would say with his gruff voice as he blew out some of the smoke from his cigarette. Pelle would walk through the aisles, till he got back to the register. He'd place down the food he got onto the counter. The cashier would begin to ring him up, meanwhile Pelle let his eyes wander across the shelves behind the counter. Nothing really caught his eye, except for one. "Could I get that?" The man would look up, following Pelle's finger to whatever he pointed at. "You want that freaky thing? Sure, sure. I'll let you have it for free."

About an hour later, Pelle would be sitting back on his mattress in his dark room, eating some of the sweets he got from the gas station. He'd crumple up a wrapper as he tossed it to the side, gulping down the previous bites he'd taken. He'd reach into the bag to grab another, but his fingertips would brush across the fabric of the doll. He'd pick it up, smiling a bit as he looked at it. For a while, he'd make little sound effects as he played around with it. Eventually, he'd place it down at the end of his bed and grab his sketchbook and walkman, beginning to do some late-night sketches.