Day 0: We lost power today. It seemed like Hurricane Ike would blow the siding off our house. Of course it wouldn’t, since they were only tropical storm force winds. We stood in a field and taunted the howling wind. We watched with mild fear as shingles lifted on the roof. We listened with awe as huge boughs cracked and fell, crashing to the earth. Our power flickered once, then twice, then went out completely. We wandered the neighborhood, looking for friends whom we could help. We trimmed branches. and gawked at whole trees lying in the street. The lack of electricity didn’t really bother us. It was all so novel to light candles and read the comics by the yellow flickering light.
Day 1: We cleared more debris, and assessed the damage to our roof. We couldn’t go to work because our offices didn’t have electricity. News reports told us that millions of people were without power. Schools were closed. Businesses were closed. Adults were outside playing with their kids. We borrowed a generator to power our refrigerator and freezer, and to charge our cell phones. Some traffic lights stood sentinel, doing their appointed job, others hung like corpses, lifeless and pointless. Traffic accidents were few because drivers were careful in this new, uncharted territory.
Day 3: Some people got power, many more remained dark, left to their own devices and ingenuity. Half the gas stations were closed because they too had no power, many were out of gas but were happy to sell junk food. We poured 2.5 gallons down the throat of our generator so that our food could stay cold. Most stores had “Sorry, no ice” on their doors. Friends threw away food.
Day 6: Traffic accidents have increased because people are growing increasingly frustrated at the dead traffic lights. People once calm about their predicament started to question the intentions of the workers attempting to restore power.
Day 9: As some houses were brought back on line, others went dark.”Its the surges” the spokeman claimed.We had power for 3 hours, 17 minutes.
Day 17: A mob of angry residents, organized by the civic association, confronted a napping power company repair man. He claimed he’d been working 18 hours, but the mob was unimpressed. They were tired of driving 90 minutes to get ice. They were tired of not having cable TV. They wanted electricity. The repairman was indignant. The mob destroyed his truck.
Day 27: More trucks were destroyed as mobs roved the streets searching for someone to blame. Power continued to flicker, unpredictably, seemingly house by house, store by store. Power one day meant nothing for the next.
Day 41: Our generator was stolen. It had been chained to a fence in the back yard, running happily day after day. Its hum comforting, even if it didn’t light our whole house. A gang of 5 young men walked up in daylight with bolt cutters, stopped the generator, and loaded it in a truck. I stood, amazed.
Day 67: We’ve stopped using debit cards for payment, because so few stores have power. We’ve returned to cash only in all but the wealthiest businesses. We had power for 82 minutes today.
Day 91: Intersections have become dangerous places. Some people refuse to stop at the intersections with broken lights. Some people refuse to stop when a light tells them to, though those have become rare. Traffic fatalities have increased 70%. Insurance companies are placing ads on TV telling people to be careful at all intersections. Few people see the ads.
Day 107: The state government has reported that house fires have increased 137% in the last month. They urge everyone to use protective sconces or new unbreakable hurricane lanterns.
Day 121: There’s a new farmers market down the street operating 7 days a week. We can walk to get fresh food everyday. The grocery store we once went to has been ravaged by shoplifting since their detectors almost never work.
Day 152: We heaved the refrigerator to the curb where it lay next to the microwave. Our icebox (just ordered from an Amazon.com catalog) had already been installed where the dishwasher used to be. The iceman and the milkman are neighbors, so we always get the freshest milk, and the coldest ice.
Day 204: We finally removed the last electric ceiling fan from our bedroom, replacing it with a candelabra, ordered from the latest LL Bean catalog.
Day 259: We had electricity for 7 minutes today, but nothing in the house turned on except the old carbon monoxide detector we’d forgotten about. It seemed quaint to hear that antique chirp from our living room. Our new one is window mounted and solar powered.
Day 303: Today I found a manual typewriter in the pile of stuff that had been destined for a garage sale nearly a year ago. I wrote this story of the apocalypse, then sold the typewriter at an eBay auction house for $2000.
