- Lewie
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Lisa
- Tom
- Serendipidy
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
LEWIE
George had an idea.
It wasn’t a bright idea.
It wasn’t even a good idea.
In fact, it wasn’t even a bad idea.
Suffice to say, if you could see the physical manifestation of it, you would only find a broken light bulb above George’s head.
The idea wasn’t original.
It was common.
Or… at least, it used to be.
George’s idea was no longer with the times.
People moved on.
They found better lighting.
They upgraded.
George was in a closet, alone in the dark.
He was trying to find a light switch when most people talked to Alexa.
LIZZZIE
At the thrift shop, he spotted an artist’s mannequin with a lightbulb for a head, leaning against a tarnished mirror. It’s broken, they said. But he bought it anyway, and placed it on the mantelpiece. There was just something about that small fragile wooden figure. The next day, the mannequin was gone. Who took the mannequin, he shouted. Not me, everyone replied. He searched the whole house, and found the mannequin leaning against the full-body mirror in the bedroom. He could’ve sworn that there was a faint glimmer in that lightbulb. Perhaps the mannequin wasn’t that broken after all.
RICHARD
Light bulb moment
They say Christmas is for kids but I’ve never agreed, although these days it’s really not like it used to be.
Forget the old clichés about commercialisation or the true meaning of Christmas; it’s technology that’s ruined it for me.
Specifically, LED fairy lights.
Back in the day, it was almost a yearly rite of passage to dig out the fairly lights and spend hours of frustration hunting for the one broken light bulb in the tangled mass, before the satisfaction of seeing them burst brightly into life upon finally finding the culprit.
And now, it’s just not the same.
SERENDIPIDY
The glass from the broken light bulb crunches underfoot, a disquieting sound in the darkness.
The light from the officers’ torches bounces haphazardly off the damp walls, casting eerie, confused shadows on the scene, colours muted and unnatural.
It’s hard to make anything out. You act on instinct, reliant on your senses and an indefinable gut feeling for anything that might be out of place and unnatural.
Something feels, very unnatural. Very out of place. Very wrong indeed.
A sudden gasp at your side, and the sweeping torches pause, all focussed on a single spot.
Then you see the blood.
TOM
It was a dark and stormy night
Sheets a rain broke against the roof. You could hardly make out the edges of homes down the street. Then the light show commenced in earnest, ragged forks of lightening coming from the east. The thunder was freaking the cat out. She bolted into the lamp, sent it hard to the floor. Broken light bulb shards everywhere. I lit a candle and grabbed a broom to sweep. The glass tinkle like tiny bells. This was that last sound I remember hearing before the wind removed the roof. The last thing I saw was glass shards dancing toward the funnel cloud.
LISA
Tuesday
I spent the night in darkness with the cold clasping my hand. I’d pulled my jumper up over my nose, partly for warmth; mostly for its comforting smell.
A small window illuminated my new world. When the sun rose I was grateful for the dark night and was glad I’d not explored – broken glass glittered on the floor from a broken light bulb waiting for my bare feet to find it.
Grim and dirty. Bin bags spilling random belongings piled high.
It was a room with a story no one wanted to hear.
There was nothing to do but wait.
NORVAL JOE
Mandi tiptoed up the stairs to the guest room and flipped on the light switch. With a pop, the light went out. She could ask Billbert’s mother to get a new bulb, but that would draw attention to the fact that Sabrina was not in the room, too.
A streetlight outside the window illuminated the room enough for her to see her way around, and she crossed to a dresser and slipped the magnifying glass into the upper drawer.
She lay down on the bed and tried to figure out how she would explain Sabrina’s sudden absence in the morning.
PLANET Z
Only about 300 feet of water separates Little York Island from the mainland. People like things kept simple. The island is only ten minutes walk around. Everybody bikes or walks the paths. We built a footbridge a while back. Frank Henderson wants to widen it, we voted him down. if you got something big, the main post ferries it over and there’s a grocery at the other end of the bridge. There’s a doctor and dentist and a small general store. At night everyone turns out their lights and we watch the stars and sacrifice goats to the Chaos Gods.