Oct. 29, 20–

We are in darkness– and the hours hang heavily upon us.

The afternoon passed uneventfully. whilst I wrote in the study I could hear Jennifer and Adam, he on recorder and she on her indispensible ukulele, practicing duets in the parlor; I could not tell precisely what they played -either “the Sloop John B” or Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, but they were having fun so why be picky?

Later, after a candlelit repast of bread, a cold fowl and leftover saag paneer, we cast about for something thing that might while away the hours. I proposed heating individual kernels of popcorn over a candle’s flame, but the idea was received without enthusiasm.

Shortly thereafter, the strain of an evening without X-Box grew too great for Adam to bear, and he cried piteously, begging his mama for but ten minutes in which to play Minecraft. I hadn’t the heart to tell him the truth of his situation: if the power does not return, we shall indeed send him into the mines for coal. He’ll soon learn, as my own father did, the difference between playing at mining and scrabbling at a rock face engulfed in Stygian darkness. Pray God it does not come to that.