Powerless

2 September 2009

Rain is pouring down outside and then, despite the lack of any thunder or lightning, my computer screen goes dark. My phone squeaks its hideous squeak as the power blips back on and then goes out again. Around the house we are faced with the blank faces of our digital friends. But for the odd battery-powered clock here and there, time has stopped.

At least we have our laptops … though the router has no power. Well, at least I have my iPod … wait, I bought an iPod touch, not an iPhone. We are alone in the world. What to do? Read? I try it, sitting for once on the new sofa in the sitting room. So this is what comfort feels like. My backside no longer square from hours and hours on the crappy computer chair that creaks loudly every time I move.

11am approaches. Coffee time. We like our routines. 11am is coffee time. We have a gas cooker. Thank goodness for that, our electric kettle is welcome to stand on the counter as useless as can be, it matters not to us. Though the gas cooker has mains ignition. No problem. Dad lights a match and sets a pan of water to boil, while I giggle in the sitting room. We’re pioneers.

From high up on the kitchen wall the clock ticks loudly and incessantly into the office and I’m aware of how much ambient noise and hum with which I must live each day. The computer, the laptop, the hard drives, the fridge, the freezer, all breathing in and out. But for now they hold their breath.

The bright green of a Southern Electric van driving past in the falling rain breaks up the grey dullness of the outside world. Is there hope for the return of our so dearly-loved flow of electrons? It’s been nearly two hours now.

There the van goes again and suddenly my office comes back to life. The phone yelps and behind me the hard drives are breathing once more. It feels like such a din.