Candlelight Revenge

Upon our return from a camping vacation this week, we discovered that the electricity had been out much of the day, and were told the lines would not be repaired until 4 AM. Okay. We can tough out heat and cold like cave people. After all these millennia, we’ve perfected survival skills.
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So we busted out the candles and flashlights and went to bed early. Windows open, the whole night I heard workmen yelling at each other up and down the street, flashlights blinking in and out among the houses, and finally, at about 3:30 AM, the power came on, underpromised and overdelivered! Yes!
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Power for 20 glorious seconds.
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Then, just as suddenly, all was extinguished again until noon the next day. So I didn’t sleep most of the night, the brain entertaining rambling, incoherent and unproductive thoughts. There’s no “off” switch in a brain thus energized.
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There was one consolation. Before going to bed, I had realized that a fly had entered the house with us, and he had found the one light source he could ram over and over again with his fly-skull—my laptop computer screen, illuminated as I gingerly drew upon the computer battery power. So as I was attempting to decipher 50 e-mails before retiring to bed, he kept ramming my screen, drawn in by its bluish, glowing light. Annoying. Aggravating. Demonic.
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So, then, what was my consolation, you ask? When I arose the next morning in my still un-electrified house, I opened my laptop again, and beheld—the smashed body of aforesaid fly! Apparently, without even trying, when closing the laptop before turning in for bed, I had squeezed him lifeless in the process.
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Sweet revenge by candlelight.
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Note: One animal was harmed in the making of this photoblog.