A damaged toe, four doctors, a pink scooter — and one afternoon in Copenhagen when I couldn’t remember what season it was.

Two students, lotus-shaped candles, passing trams — and a teacher trying very hard to look like one.

A student walked out of a Copenhagen yoga class saying “just a moment.” He never came back.

I found an interview with someone I had once known in a yoga room. Then I searched for her — and the story changed.

A night train through Copenhagen, scratched glass, familiar stations — and a life that had quietly continued without me.