Sparks in the Dark

At 11pm last night, everything suddenly went very dark. A power-outage had paralysed our entire block. As I stumbled my way towards the flashlights we keep stored in an emergency box, I was engulfed by total silence. Despite common sense telling me everything was perfectly safe, my heart was racing. It seems I never entirely outgrew my fear of the dark. And there are few things more isolate than a modern house stripped of its amenities.

Flashlight at hand, I found my way to a box of matches. And as I moved through the house to light the candles, my free hand kept touching the light-switches it passed on its way. Out of habit.

In the glow of the candles, we switched off the flashlights and contemplated what we were left with. And the thing we came up with was each other. We huddled round the little lights with a few blankets wrapped around us and simply... talked. About funny things that have happened to us in the last few years, but we’ve never taken the time to tell each other before. About what’s on our mind right now. What worries us and what no longer does. About the film we were watching when the power cut and what the ending would look like if we could write it. About our plans for tomorrow, when the lights come back on. And about how lucky we are to live in a place where a power-outage turns into a simply fun night, instead of a week-long drama.