Page 6 - Fanget I Tiden oversættelse - caught in time (komplet)-converted

room. He had to do something! He ran out to the toilet and turned on the tap in the shower cabin,

distraught he stuffed his clothes into a suitcase, which he then flung out through the window.
After that, he ran out into the kitchen where Frau Hirts had been preparing their meal a few hours

earlier. He rushed around in the dark searching franticly until he found a bucket. He filled it with
water and ran out again.

The roof next to the car had caught fire and he could no longer see the vehicle as it was entirely

engulfed by flames.
Sensations of powerlessness and terror rushed through him and he was shaking so much that he

dropped the bucket of water. Even though the smoke scorched his eyes and all his senses

confirmed that the fire was real, it all seemed unreal to him. Like a nightmare!
It was only a couple of hours ago that he had been proudly telling his hosts about his media work.

Boasted in order to impress and was pleased to say that Germany’s largest dairy company was
enthusiastic about his work. He had told them about Denmark, about his son, Josh, who had

started school, and about his daughter, Tessa, who loved dressing up and borrowing her mother’s

makeup.
For an instant, Johan was a man of the world, a beacon, one who was visiting these small sitting

rooms in the grey suburb. Neither Herr Hirts nor Frau Hirts fancied the idea of travelling, they

told him, though they relished the stories their guests told them.
The relaxed atmosphere and the wine, which Herr Hirts had fetched, made the hosts extra chatty.

"Unfortunately we have never experienced the pleasure of having children."

Herr Hirts flicked his wife an accusing look.
"Never experienced the pleasure," he repeated to himself.

Frau Hirts remained silent. She only really spoke when she was serving her tasty traditional food.

She had her own special way of laughing. First she would giggle and hide her face in her hands,
after which she would break out in an uncontrolled roar of laughter with tears streaming down

her face.

Now no one was laughing.
"Ellen, Ellen, no, in hell’s name! Not the window sill!"

Herr Hirts's voice was desperate. He was panic-stricken!
"Help, help! I want to get out!" Frau Hirts yelled hysterically, and at that moment a dull thud could

be heard.

"My back! My back!" she groaned in a desperate voice.
The fire had caught hold of her nightdress and was quickly burning into her flesh. The poor

woman yelled in agony and twisted round in jerky movements. Then there came another heavy

thud.