FLASHed

9. Blackout

It was always going to be a bad day. Sure, the neighbours had seen me fully naked, but worse was that I'd run out of coffee; not the instant abracadabra coffee, but the good stuff -- fresh roasted and full of flavour and goodness. The electricity was out, so I couldn't order a new batch and, because there was no electricity, I couldn't even dispense a mug of the crap stuff. Bad day for sure.

Bucky Rogers had a plantation of heritage arabica beans growing on the top of the local Sears Platform. There she produced enough of the green bean to keep the entire borough pepped up with bitter goodness. Not only did she supply the beans, but every morning she'd be up before dawn roasting so she'd be ready to distribute to eager kitchens for the breakfast brew. It was quite a sight to see the small army of small bots hovering to and from the roof-top with packaged coffee in toe.

Normally street-net could zoom in on the giant building so I could watch the coffee distribution, but as the electricity was out, I had no view screen. I guess the cameras wouldn't be working either.

I knew that electricity wasn't a problem for just me either; it seemed that at least the entire neighbourhood had been affected by the loss of buzz. Let me explain...

Normally the dark frosting on the windows filtered out the sunlight, thus providing a gentle and gradual ease into the light of day. However, this morning I awoke to a burning sensation on my ears, which turned out to be the feeling of direct sunlight on my skin. I then discovered that waking up with an eyeful of sun was not a great thing.

The frosting on the glass-like polymer walls of my apartment is powered by electricity, and seeing that there was no electricity, there was no frosting, just clear-as-crystal wall between me and the sunlight.  I soon realised; there was also no frosting between me and the gawking stares of my neighbours in the opposite apartments. I shudder at the thought of the wink and wave Mrs Peters gave me -- I think she also licked her lips (man, I hope that was just my imagination).  Oh, did I mention that I sleep in my birthday suit?

Believe it or not, finding clothes to put on was also a challenge. The bots recycle the dirty clothes and deliver fresh ones during the night. No electricity -> no bots -> no clothes. Luckily I have a very special vintage outfit that I wear on special occasions. Of course, the door to the store box wouldn't open so I had to smash it. 

Dressed I could now relax (well kind of, underwear would've been nice) and look out the window to assess the situation. I needed to find out how far the blackout was in effect. I knew the block was out as the neighbours didn't have window  frosting either. More troubling however was the absence of air traffic as this told me that the outage was widespread and pretty damn serious.

So there I was without caffeine in my veins and stuck, unable to connect with the outside world. I decided to go to the front door to try and make my escape. My heart sank when I realised the lock, while mechanical, was powered by electricity. The door to the balcony was also locked. I was trapped.

I am trapped.

I go to my couch and drop down onto an unexpectedly hard seat with a jarring thump; not having considered that electricity powers the cushion that would normally mould around my body, soft and cosy-like. I honestly can't believe this is happening. The T-Bridge has been in place for as long as anyone can remember, delivering power to everyone and everything -- as much or as little as required -- day or night -- every day of the year -- without fail.  The T-Bridge has never broken down or failed to deliver power.

The Tesla Bridge has failed.

I reckon I could survive the blackout for a couple of days or at least for as long as anyone can survive without electricity to power the water pumps. I try hard not to freak out and just pray that the people, who know how to fix the T-Bridge, didn't wake up with the sun in their face too.

.fin

(750 words)