In The Dark

 

Day 1: Write a story that takes place in the dark

 

I'm part of an exercise where we write a piece of Flash Fiction (story under 750 words) each day for 30 days.

WHEN THE WIND howled the windows rattled. When it slowed, the wind chimes on the patio added a musical counterpoint.

 

The lights had been out for the last hour and Lisa had no idea where the candles or the oil lantern were kept. She could see outside that the entire street was dark.

No way would Lisa call Mark and ask him about the candles. He had made it clear she was not to contact him at his girlfriend’s. He would have his lawyer contact hers and could she get one quickly. Leave a message at the office.

 

His announcement of their divorce came only that morning. She’d had no warning, although in retrospect she should have known that their 30-year marriage had deteriorated to where most of their conversation was on functional things, like “call the plumber.”

 

Her feelings were mixed: memory-ladden, sadness, even amused at the way he told her hemming and hawing as he packed. 

 

“You should have known,” her sister said when she talked to her that afternoon. “You are always in the dark. Remember how you had no idea you would be fired, despite all your stories about how unfair your office was. Can’t see the forest for the trees. Want me to come over?”

 

“No, the storm is too bad.”

 

The lights flickered then her living room plunged into darkness.

 

Lisa thought of all the stories she’d read about long-time marriages breaking up. Usually, the woman was bereft. Then that woman went on to have a great life, the husband asked to come back, and they all lived happily ever after.

 

She didn’t feel bereft. She saw it as an opportunity. Sell the house, buy something smaller that didn’t require much care. Her daughter would side with her father, her son with her. So be it. They were both married with their own children. She had her friends, and they were her friends. One of the things she should have seen was that they did little as a couple with couples, but each had their own circle. The calendar on the fridge that marked who was doing what where and when was another signal she’d missed.

 

Lights flickered again. Whoever was trying to fix the problem was probably working on it. There would be light again in her house and her life.