The Northern Lights

"How can you sleep when it's so light outside?" She was looking out of the window as if examining something on close hold.
"Don't worry", he replies. "If you're tired enough, you will. This is Norway, you will get used to the summers, and when the time comes, the winters."

"I am tired", she says. "But I'm worried too. Those are my friends out there, my future, my dreams, my holidays. I need to do more than just lift a finger."

Unaffected by her sulkiness, he places a cigarette on his lips and starts searching his pockets for matches. Why didn't he ever keep them at the same place? His pockets are empty, so he moves towards the gas oven and bends his head for spark.
He looks at her, over his shoulder , while exhaling. Women, he thinks. Always so dramatic.

He goes back and sits next to her. He puts his free arm around her shoulder and exhales the smoke towards the other direction.

"They will arise, you know. Underneath all the smoke and tear gasses, lies a newly redeemed nation."

E.Y

Closure

I'm hurting, inside out

The wound doesn't heal. 

There was no closure, the untangled truth could have saved me from banging my head on walls, the sudden outbursts once the doors were closed. 

Madness takes over when I pick up the phone, hoping you won't answer. I watch after each dial tone, the sky turns a shade darker. 

E.Y

Punk Stories from the 80's

Punks; growing up in the 80's I was intimidated by them. They were mysterious, edgy, outstandingly creative when it came to style. Their spiky hair and the spikes on the jackets were almost like a shield against us and the reactions of people whom simply didn't understand them. 

Pictures by Marianne C. Brantsæter

Pictures taken of Punk youth in Oslo between 1980-1982. Photographer Marianne C. Brantsæter.