Static Screams

2. The Storm

Jared left the house an hour ago. A call from work, he said.

He told me to unplug the television as well.
Something about a dream that he had had.

I've just been sitting here for the entire time, listening to the sound of thunder.
And the ticking of the clock.

All of the lights are off.
Have I told you that?
The wind and rain knocked over a nearby power line and everything has gone out.
Everything except for the television.

There isn't anything on.
Only the static and its shrieking, swirling dreams and whispering, warping nightmares.
The screen flickers with every crackling pop.

But I can't unplug the television.

I don't want the silence to come back.
I can't stand the thought of her being alone again.

I think I can hear her voice calling my name.