Voices by Arnaldur Indridason

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“Sometimes he bought a bottle of chartreuse at Christmas and had a glass beside him while he read about ordeals and death in the days when people traveled everywhere on foot and Christmas could be the most treacherous time of the year. Determined to visit their loved ones, people would battle with the forces of nature, go astray and perish; for those awaiting them back home, Christmas turned from a celebration of salvation to a nightmare. The bodies of some travelers were found. Others were not. They were never found. These were Erlendur’s Christmas carols.”