Blackout

Iyintosoluwami
3 min readJan 17, 2025

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A short story.

“Not again...”

The lantern, buoyed by a singular chain, swayed back and forth as amber chords of light flickered to a stop.

“Mom… powers out!”

“I can see that Sophie. No need to shout.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d buy me a phone.”

“Maybe, if you’d do some chores around here you could earn one.”

I was turning 8 soon, but you wouldn’t guess by talking to me. Curious, and vocal. Baby talk just wouldn’t suffice. I always preferred direct communication anyway.

“..I shouldn’t have to remind you what day is coming up, mother..” I mumbled under my breath

“What was that?”

..silence..

To be sure, I was ready to break free from the boundaries of neatly codified childhood, and burst forth into the uncharted and wild world of pre-adolescent rebellion..

And yet, I knew.

Now was not the time.

Mom wins for now.

The blackouts had been getting more frequent lately.

Each one felt like the city holding it’s breath.

Everything would come to halt, and no one would say much.

What was there to say, anyway?

I heard mother scrambling around the cupboards upstairs.

She must be looking for the flashlight.

“Its down here mom.”

At first, the outages would only last a second or two.

Nowadays, they’ve been going on for upwards of an hour —

but each time, things would eventually kick back into gear.

Today, mom and I had been waiting, patiently for… nearly 30 minutes now.

Not a jolt, or even a flicker. The ceiling lamp continued to swing uneasily above our heads, creaking. As if begging to be lit, once again.

“What in the world has happened to us, Sophie?”

Here she goes again, being all dramatic…

“What’s the matter now?”

“You shouldn’t be here — you should have gone with him, like we agreed.

…you’d be in a good school, with good friends, and warm food, and lights that don’t go out, and...”

“I’m right where I need to be mom.”

Again, silence.

So, I lit a candle.

And started to draw.

Minutes melted to hours, and before too long, the room again began to hum with the life of illumination.

But, the glow emanating from our lonely lingering lantern.

It was different this time. For some reason…

I looked up at our swinging spotlight.

Curious.

It was still off.

I looked at my mother, asleep, on the couch to my right.

Her face looked so calm.

Like the clear blues of an untouched lake in the middle of nowhere.

Or a koala bear nestled in the crag of a towering oak tree.

The glow flickered on her face.

As if, there was a flame in the room.

“That’s odd…”

I thought.

“We don’t have a fireplace”

And yet… there it was.

Left of where my pile of drawings once were, laid open a flame of deep orange, warming the surface of every crevice it touched.

“I guess, the power is still out, huh?” — mother had finally joined us.

I turned around.

“But, at least the light is here.”

“What are you talking about sweetheart.. there is no light.”

I turned back to closely observe the impossible fire fixed before me.

“Oh…”

“Well, maybe we make our own.”

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Iyintosoluwami
Iyintosoluwami

Written by Iyintosoluwami

Documenting the journey through.

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