There was an electrical outage in Denver on Saturday night that left several city blocks without power for roughly two hours…
It was around 8pm when I sat down to my computer to do some research for my next book. My roomie had already left for work, so it was just me and the cats at home. I was in the middle of reading through my mother’s arrest records, when everything when dark!
Immediately after, there was a brief surge of power that sent all of us about five feet in the air!
I grabbed my phone (thank you flashlight feature!) and navigated my way to light the candles strew about the apartment.
When I was finished, it looked like I was holding a vigil in here. It was kind of creepy…
After I calmed the kitties (and myself), I stepped onto my balcony to asses the damage. From the twelfth floor, I could see that I was directly in the middle of several darkened city blocks. Street lights, traffic lights, interior lights, all nonexistent. Thankfully, there were already police officers stationed at every intersection (that I could see) with a downed light. Pretty impressive considering it happened less than 5 minutes ago.
At first it was mostly silent around me. I just stood there, leaning against my patio door, memorized by the reflection of the police lights off the windows of a neighboring high-rise.
The silence was eventually broken with the sound of balcony doors opening as those around me ventured outside to investigate. I could hear the guys on the balcony above me talking amongst themselves about how creepy it was that our entire building and those around it seemed to fade into the blackness around us. Two blocks to the west, the buildings had power, which was the only thing illuminating our view of the surrounding area.
As the glow of residual lights loomed from the surrounding sky scrapers, my mind began to wander. The scene was like that out of a horror movie. I could see the potential for a zombie apocalypse just around the corner…
I started thinking about the situation I would be in, if (worst case scenario) I needed to hold up in my apartment for an indefinite amount of time.
My food situation wasn’t the greatest, but it would sustain me for a few days at least. I have two cupboards filled with bulk items, such as beans, rice, nuts, lentils, etc. There is some meat in the freezer and mostly fresh fruits and veggies in the refrigerator, but that wouldn’t last very long if the power never came back on.
If I am lucky enough to have power restored, even for a short period of time, I would try to cook up and/or dehydrate what I could to extend my rations. Water would be an issue as well. I have about a gallon of water in the refrigerator, but I should also try to fill up the bathtubs in the apartment if at all possible. A gallon of water would not last me more than a few days.
I knew that I would eventually have to venture out of the apartment, but the thought of navigating twelve flights of stairs down to a possibly still present glass entry door is not something I want to think about right now.
I looked up the outage on my phone and the power company estimated that power would be restored within the hour. “Well that’s promising” I thought. I decided to pick up a book and wait out the darkness. I curled up on the couch next to one of the freshly light candles and began to immerse myself into the world of fantasy.
Several pages in, I was interrupted by a noise outside. It sounded like a woman screaming or yelling something?! Living in downtown Denver, this is something I am used to. I really didn’t think much of it. It was Saturday night, so I assumed it was someone from the bar down the street.
I went back to reading and just a few minutes later, I heard it again. Only this time it didn’t stop and it was no longer an isolated scream, but a blood curling group of screams just outside my window.
I jumped up and ran to the balcony. Looking in the direction of the bar, I could see a great deal of commotion in the streets, but I couldn’t make out exactly what was happening.
Remembering that I still had my grandfather’s binoculars in my bed room, I ran to retrieve them and returned to investigate. As I wiped the dust off the lenses, I could now see several individuals running away from the bar. I quickly put the binoculars up to my eyes and did my best to focus in on the people fleeing in my direction.
The lights were still out, but you almost couldn’t tell. The surrounding area was as bright as daylight from a combination of police and civilian vehicles lining the streets.
The closest person approaching the building was a woman wearing a barely present black dress. Her shoes were missing and she seemed to be limping. As I scanned up to her face, I could see the black stains from where her tears had caused her mascara to run. She had a look of pure terror in her eyes. Was she the one who was screaming earlier? What was she afraid of?
When I moved my gaze to the next person, I got my answer. Several feet behind her was a man, well what resembled a man. His eyes were jet black and his face was covered in blood. He was running after her with his hands (also covered in blood) in the air making a horrible moaning sound.
My heart sank. This can’t be happening….I pinched myself…yup, felt it!…Holy sh!t, I’m totally screwed!
~ Well that was my first attempt at writing fiction. Not sure how good it was, but it was fun :)~
Image courtesy of Phaitoon at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Obsession driven to infinity
« me arrodillo por las noches ante tigres que no me dejarán ser - lo que fuiste no será otra vez - los tigres me han encontrado pero no me importa. »
“Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding.” Proverbs 4:17
(...and some I have)
Internationally Published Poet
Get your daily motivation fix right here!
“We may struggle, but we don’t quit”
• Hugs and Infinities
Poets bleed from the heart and soul
Inspiration . Good Vibes . Musings
Poem's of life and realms which lie beyond
An overactive mind. Borderline Personality Disorder, GAD, Social Anxiety & Attachment Disorder.
The poetry of ineptitude.
not so anonymous anymore.
An on-going project. The newest entries are on the top, the first one's are on the bottom. If you are new, please scroll down to the bottom and start from the beginning. You will understand a lot more that way.
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
From a Writer to all Writers
The Bipolar Writer and J.E. Skye