Nobody knows if the power will be restored. It went off with a small click and that was it. No countdown, no explosion, no event.
We’d all been warned often enough that oil and gas were running out, that we weren’t investing enough in renewable energy. Now only essential services and the rich have power.
There was no hysteria when the lights went out. It’s even had some benefits: communities pulled together to help the vulnerable; disparate neighbours found a common bond in adversity.
I watch the light fizzle in my table lamp as the last of my oil runs out. As the darkness descends inside, I look to the light out the window. I think I shall like the simpler way of life that lies ahead.
Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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