Everything is backwards

[Emwe Soul]

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ind//for i bakvendt-land indentind//der kan alt gå an //Emwe Soul tar det siste verset av en sang han ikke kan Oh the confinement, the small space! The walls were going to eat him alive, or squish him! The boy had no notion of death, but he did have a notion of pain, and the whole process didn't seem very tempting in his mind. His imagination was perhaps overly active, but then again he had been shaken out of his sleep, into a very noisy and angry reality. Soon enough though, his clawing attracted attention, of both kinds. The angry woman's voice wasn't quite so angry, and she said his name again. She would take him home to mommy and daddy? But what about uncle Ly? It wasn't as if he didn't like mommy and daddy - of course he liked them! He liked uncle Ly too, though. But right now it didn't matter, because all he wanted was to get out of this tiny tiny room, so small, too small! When Ly's voice boomed through the room the boy shrunk to probably half his size, that was how much he pushed his limbs to his body, but soon enough he was scratching at the floorboards again, more frantic now. He grew more stressed with the negativity in the room, the storm gathering, threatening his feeling of peace and safety - the tension ripping through what had been a good day, and ripping it to fragments. A whimper escaped him, louder this time. Why wasn't anyone taking him out of here? He wanted to get out! This room was going to eat him! Still he tried to understand what the two adults were saying and doing, what they were up to, and whether uncle Ly was going to let the angry woman take him back to mommy and daddy. Two paws still worked furiously, as if to dig him out to safety. Safety from the viciousness of his walls and their confinement. Yelling to get his caretaker's attention, the boy mustered whatever sound he had in him, nearly squeaking his little sentence out. Uncle Ly! Is so small in here! //der er de like tøysete og rare alle mann //

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