Monday, December 17, 2007

Power outage

The lights flickered at about one in the afternoon. The digital clocks blinked fast, as though to warn us. The televisions, which were turned off, also blinked in the dim rooms. The pantry refrigerator was overcome from the fluctuations and sparked. Allen threw the breakers. We were out of electricity for about five hours. When we saw the lights come on at our neighbor's, Allen went back to the fuse box and let the electricity flow back into our lives again.

It is a completely different world without electricity. Even in your own house, you notice it, how quiet the world is. How turned in you are to your own thoughts. How alive the walls are, catching the light from the flickering candles.


Anonymous said...

Oh, I love how alive the walls are with the flickering candles. Teagrapple

emmapeelDallas said...

We had a couple of brownouts this summer, where the whole neighborhood went dark, and, perhaps more importantly to most of us in Dallas, without air conditioning for several hours. But on one of those nights, Katharine & Christopher & I pulled out lawnchairs and sat out front with neighbors, drinking a glass of wine and chatting for a couple of hours. It was like living in another time, and a good reminder of what we give up, with all of our conveniences...



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"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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Fave Painting: Eden

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Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

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The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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