An explosion wave was missing in the room.

In the room, there was nothing... only furniture, carpeting, dust and air, shining lights and walls. The explosion wave would have completely obliterated everything and created chaos. The deep kind of mayhem that resonates with your chest, the kind to make you breathe heavily and flick your eyes everywhere like a hunted predator. Now, with everything obliterated, with even the ceiling and floor smashed to dust, you notice the nothingness is gone. You growl, not because you are scared or angry, but because the vibration it produces in your body. It is like a communion with yourself. Right there where previously nothing was, you blew everything apart with freaking mindbomb of rage. Pure rage! Forget what I said about not being angry. Or afraid. But as the dust settles and once more form physical objects - like the ground that prevents you from falling into the center of the earth - you realize this attack you have made has little ramifications.

Vil heller

Hervertet likeså, må vike blå. Jeg er i det peneste forhenget, heklet saft og syrlig. Vidundertid, og over alt, si bunner ut og velte sprit, helte helt i kom nå hit.

Kom, kom hit, kom hit og vit, kom hit og vit. Lik den óg, og ikke bare å ikke ikke ville det, vil heller.

I, kort, veldig kort, er, noe lenger, mye lenger.

Glemme syv, trenge fem, sette åtte, kløvet nitten og seks mer.

Men? Til sist. Vil heller.

Etterpå: Sov syder under lokket, kritter skribler, sitter og vil, vil ha. Jada.

Vil heller??