The concrete floor and the white tiles could only hide so much. There wasn’t nearly enough room for him to go around without hurting himself.

“No,” he said, creeping around on his hands and knees. “No. I must go deeper. I must go right underneath the floor and wait to come out.”

On the second day he went on with his explorations. He went on, thumping along the corridor with his stick.

The feeling of helplessness, the complete and utter helplessness of it all must have tormented him to death.

But finally, he came to decide which pockets of the home to blow up, which corners to blow down, which walls to blow in, which rooms to make light. This was his chance to get a thing or two right!