The Divine Electrician

Tue, 10/08/2019 - 00:02 -- Max K

In a time before cars

Or trains

Or planes

He wielded lightning like a spear

Hurling it at the ground

Screaming as it makes contact

Lighting fire to trees and grass

One moment, a baby deer has wandered a bit too far from the forest

The next, it is a charred, black corpse

 

And little humans, like ants

Stared up

Hearts pounding in their chests

Not knowing what he threw

And prescribed it as the work of a god

As they fled into their homes

Where they could still hear the thunder

But at least

They didn’t have to see the flashes of bright, painful light

Burning into their eyes.

 

But today

He flips the fuses

And unscrews the outlets

And he pokes a screwdriver into a socket

Checking switches and wires

Testing connections

 

While his client sits on black, leathery sofa

Running their finger gently down the lit, slightly cracked screen in their palms

Feeling the heat radiating from it

And watching their battery creep down.

 

Thirty percent…

Twenty-nine percent…

Did it just skip down to twenty-seven percent?

 

And the client

Is disgruntled at having to use mobile data

Until he can turn the power back on.

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