It's funny what losing power can do. The little things, like wondering what the hell is going on. Groping for a light source that you know is buried in the back of a cabinet two rooms away, walking into door frames (and hoping no one saw it, then realizing they didn't because their power is out too.)
I awoke at 6am only to listen to my power go out. No, I don't have some special sixth sense, I woke only to hear my fan die. The fan I've slept with for the past 6 or 7 years. And now I'm only praying the power comes back soon so I can finish listening to my fan. Its hum helps me sleep. I dunno why, but now I'm addicted to it. If I don't have it, I don't sleep well.
Wouldn't it be funny if it didn't comes back? If the cosmos suddenly shut off our power? Prometheus becomes an indian giver, and Edison confesses that his juice has a life span.
Since my clock died too, do I have to go to work? Maybe I should wait around until the power comes back on. I stumbled to the back of the house to grab the only battery-operated clock around, my path illuminated by one of those freebie squeeze lights that banks give away with a new account. God bless the banks!
So these are the moments.
The still moments.
The quiet moments.
The battery-operated moments.