Last night while Rachelle was working late out in Scarborough, Toronto had another power outage. These are the text messages that I sent to her:
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M: There is a power outage!!! All is dark!!!
M: It’s another World Class power failure!
M: I think it’s the third this month.
M: Yes, I did call Rob Ford.
M: Couldn’t get through.
M: Got a message that said my problem was important to him.
M: My feet are cold.
M: We should get a heating pad that works without electricity if we’re going to live in Toronto.
M: Oh, right! A hot water bottle!
M: Yeah, I bet hipsters make them to look like owls. We should get one for our emergency kit.
M: What am I doing?
M: I’m lying in bed wishing I had a hot water bottle.
M: Yes, I guess I am draining my phone battery.
M: Yes, I am in complete darkness.
M: Except for the little glow of my iPhone.
M: When I turn off my iPhone, it must be exactly what it’s like to be a ghost.
M: Well no, I can’t float about or pass through walls.
M: Look, I don’t know why you have to be so difficult about this.
M: We really don’t know if ghosts can see or not. Maybe that’s why they pass through walls– they can’t see them but instead of bumping into them, they just pass right through!
M: Well, I don’t know how they know where the people are if they can’t see. Maybe they have super hearing?
M: Look, I just figured ghosts live in darkness is all, okay?
M: Whatever.
M: Okay.
M: Fine, maybe it’s more what it’s like for a dead person than for a ghost.
M: You people with power sure are arrogant.
M: I’m going to light a candle and see if I become all stuck up.
M: Oh my God.
M: The apocalypse blood-red moon was today!
M: I forgot that!
M: I just heard a wolf howl!
M: This could be the end of the world, and we’re fighting about what it’s like to be a ghost!
M: So petty.
M: Look, I’ve done a lot of research on ghosts, you know.
M: Have to.
M: No.
M: No, I’ve never talked to one so I don’t know what their lives are really like.
M: Fine. Rachelle 1, Michael 0.
M: You just don’t care about the apocalypse, do you?
M: It’s a pretty big deal.
M: Fuck, my battery is nearly dead and there are three weird looking people with shopping carts on the street.
M: It’s like they’re plotting.
M: Yes, plotting to take our bottles, but something worse, too.
M: I can feel it.
M: I’m scared.
M: And I don’t know where my inhaler is!!
M: Fuck!!
M: When are you getting home?!
M: Where’s the Ativan???
M: Oh.
M: Light just came back on.
M: Bottle collecting murders are still staring though.