...First of all, I read the address, Brännkyrkagatan 92, there was something familiar about it, I had seen it somewhere, but where? Where? I wondered, scanning the list of names.
Oh, fuck it.
Linda Boström, it said.
A chill ran down my spine.

- My Struggle Book 2, Karl Ove Knausgaard

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...It is the fourth of March 2008. I am sitting in my office, surrounded by books from floor to ceiling, listening to the Swedish band Dungen and thinking about what I have written and where it is leading...Outside, at the front of the enormous Hilton Hotel, which is still in shadow, the lifts glide up and down in three glass shafts. Next door there is a redbrick building which, judging by all the bay windows, dormers, and arches, must be from the end of the nineteenth century or early twentieth. Beyond that, there is a glimpse of a tiny stretch of Magistrat Park with its denuded trees and green grass, where a motley gray house in a seventies style breaks the view, and forces the eye up to the sky, which for the first time in several weeks is a clear blue.

- My Struggle Book 1, Karl Ove Knausgaard

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All day long a regular stream of men went in and out of the door to US VIDEO, and having lived here for close to a year, in nine cases out of ten I could pick out who was about to go in and who would walk by.

- My Struggle Book 1, Karl Ove Knausgaard

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