Bonfire Night, 2007
Power Out
“He_o?”
“S rah? __ an o _ h ar me?”
“Hello?”
“Can you hear me Sarah?”
“I’ve got you now. What’s going on?”
“Have you lost power too?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing down here. You too then?”
“Yeah! Can’t believe it’s that widespread though.”
“Maybe all of South London’s blacked out!”
“Fuck. Wow! _____________ So, shit, I can’t shower at yours either then can I?”
“No-”
“-except gas heating, but even then. No.”
“It’s mad down here. I left the house to see what was going on, see if the street was out-”
“-yeah, Ali did the same.”
“Yeah. And the shops all down the street had closed up. All I could hear were the birds going mental, it was so strange-”
and maybe seven things cascade through my head: Walking a street south of Russel Square a little while after the blasts, radio piping into one ear and helicopters and police cars screaming through the streets while people just sort of ambled around, not panicked, just displaced; scenes from atmospheric Hitchcock films; memories of a recent dream about a Zombie holocaust that kept me from sleeping after I woke up from it; threads from my ongoing notebook for a story about the end of the world; Turning up to meet people looking a bit ragged because I haven’t showered; grabbing my camera and heading into town
“Wait _______ it’s on! The power’s on Matt! Hooray!”
“Really? _______ Oh _______ yeah _______ oh.”
© Matthew Sheret, 2008
