
Off to a Dark Start in Our New Flat
It was 4 AM—the first night in our new flat. Mr. S. was already snoring for several hours upstairs in our new bedroom. I was still moving things around downstairs, and hating every exhausted stressful moment of it.
I was in the kitchen which is in the interior of the flat. I didn’t touch a thing; didn’t plug in a thing. Just moving non-electrical stuff around. All of a sudden it went totally dark. I swear I thought I went blind—which made perfect sense to me because I really love the new flat and am scared I’m going to be punished for being happy in the new flat.
I had to get down flat on my stomach and haul my aging body across the floor, feeling my way around strange corners and an unavoidable flight of unfamiliar stairs.
My cat Egypt actually helped (unlike Mr. S., who I called and awakened and told to that all the lights were out. He answered with his usual supportive question: “What did you do?”)
So I relied on my cat who is very intelligent and actually led me back up to the bedroom by walking in front of me, crying—and then waiting for me to crawl up to her. She would then walk ahead again, cry and wait for me to catch up. And that’s the way I got up the stairs to my bedroom where I crawled into bed and felt like smacking Mr. S. awake because of all I had just suffered through.
By the way, it took almost 24 hours for an electrician to come (after about 5 calls and 10 SMS’s to our landlord). Turns out there was a short caused somewhere from some moisture (how the hell is there moisture in the dry season in Malta?) which fixed itself when the electrician finally showed up.
So that was our first night. I guess I should just be glad the electricity is back on so I can write to y




