Lighting The Night
He had lost track of time again, working too late in the too tall office building in the heart of the city. Winter was bringing on the early dark and with the added Christmas lights it seemed that the stars were falling all the way to the ground whenever he looked out the window.
The next time he looked out the window sleet was banging an icy fist against the glass. This was the kind of weather his wife hated. Cold and with the real possibility of a power outage. It would be good if he went home.
Their apartment was close to his work. She worked at home, an artist and a writer and seemed happy to nest in her studio when the weather was cold. These were hard days for her; she was terrified of the dark. Her only fear. He was thinking about how happy they were together when suddenly the electricity all over town went out. He had a flashlight in his pocket. He sped up wanting to get to her as quickly as possible so she would not be alone with her cold fear.
When he reached their block he was astounded that the only light anywhere was coming from their apartment. How was that possible? He ran up the stairs and threw upon the door.
"Isabelle, Isabelle, where are you?"
He found her asleep in their big brass bed,and she was, she was, glowing, like those fireflies he had caught as a child.
She opened her eyes and smiled.
"Welcome home, honey. I kept the light warm for you."
She pulled him down and kissed out all of the dark out of his heart.