And at night, you sit in the dark thinking about how fragile we all are. We have books and board-games, and even the boredom is a gift.Ī storm will make you realize how small you really are, how all your ideas of personal power were a flimsy facade anyway. We have blankets and bodies and a gas-powered generator that brings flames to the fireplace. This morning, I curl up on the chair with my iPhone and my Bible, tapping a few words onto a tiny screen, like I might be able to reach somewhere warm through these tiny letters. And the birds flit about in a state of confusion, finding no branches on which to roost. The governor declared today that our little rural county is in a “state of emergency.” Even my candles seem tired, flickering in the last bit of wax. We’ve been without power now for three days.
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