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French fries by candlelight

As I got nearer home last night after class, light suddenly turned to darkness.

The world became a sea of black pierced only occasionally by peeping headlights from approaching cars.

Oh great. No power.

I could barely see to slip the key into the door.

The whole neighborhood was quiet and plunged into shadows -- except for the wise guy around the corner with a generator.

You could see the flickering glow of candles in some windows.

Duke Power said it would be five more hours, my wife said.

But I'd planned to do some reading. And what about "Monday Night Football"?

So I set out for Lowe's for extra batteries and temporary lighting.

"Out of power, too, huh?" a Lowe's employee said.

He pointed to a shelf of flashlights and battery-powered lanterns that was nearly empty.

I stocked up. We'd have enough light to function one way or the other, I thought.

I got home and loaded the batteries.

The new lights and some old ones worked just fine. I pulled a battery-powered radio out of storage and tuned in the Panthers and Cowboys. (As was turning out, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I couldn't see it.)

My wife had gotten another update from Duke Power: 8 a.m. the next day.

Well, we'd make the best of it. I suggested that we eat the fast food we'd picked up for dinner by candlelight: Nothing says "I love you" like french fries by candlelight.

This wouldn't be so bad after all.

No hum from the air conditioner.

No TV to distract us from talking to each other.

A cool September night with open windows and chirping crickets.

Then, suddenly, the power came on.

I immediately popped up and turned off the radio and tuned in the TV.

As soon as I was done with dinner I headed upstairs. "Gotta watch the game in high-def," I told Eula.

I handed her the remote because I knew she'd want to watch something else on the tube downstairs.

So much for candles and fries.