100TWC - Day 29: Dark

[ this is a companion piece to "Light" which immediate precedes it in the writing challenge - on Day 28 ]

She's in there. Bustling around in the light. Light in every room. Why does she do that? Always leaves it to me to turn the lights off everywhere. We'd have a bill like Blackpool illuminations if it was left to her. Can't bear it unless it's incandescent. Like everywhere needs to be under noonday sun, even in the middle of the night. Most of the time, the light from the next room is enough for me. Or even from outside. I prefer it dark, me. You can think in the dark. Cogitate.

In the light, everything is right there. Visible. Open. There's no hiding in the light. No mystery. And no room for rational, careful thought when all of life is crashing in on you at 100 watts. Most folk make do with 60 watts. Or even 11, if it's an energy saver. Not her. It's 100 watts or nothing with her. How can you even start to think straight when there's so much... stuff... to look at. It doesn't help to close your eyes. Not with 100 watts. All you can see is the pattern of veins on your eyelids. Can't think when you're wondering where each little pathway leads, or thinking about how many blood cells are racing through the network.

Must have been wonderful back in the days of gas lamps and candles. Must have been a dream. All those soft, flickering shadows. No hard edges. Nothing demanding your attention the whole time. Time to think. It's no wonder we don't come up with as many inventions now as they did back then. It's not that everything's already been discovered or invented. It's that people could think by gas light. They didn't have highly polished surfaces winking at them or glinting chrome and glass yelling into their eyes and brains. I would have told our children that, if I'd had the chance. If you want to think, I'd have said, really think, turn the light off. Nothing to be afraid of in the dark. Course, I never did get the chance, what with one thing or another.

No, I have to have the light off. Especially to sleep. Can't stand it when she gets up in the night. Bedside light? Click. Landing light? Click. Bathroom light? Click. I'd rather grope about with just the light from the street. We get plenty from there as it is, especially with those broken curtains. They won't shut properly, see? Some nights, if the moon's up and the street lights haven't gone out yet, it might as well be daytime in our bedroom. Easily enough light to get any normal person to the bathroom and back without burning out the retinas of those poor souls still trying to sleep. I'm going to have a look at that track one of these days. There must be something wrong with it.

See, the thing about the dark is, it's cool. So much easier to keep calm in the dark. Things always look clearer, you know? Easier to work out. It's funny that - that things are easier to see when you can't see very much. It's all a question of focus. Concentrating on what's important. And there's another thing, too. You can lose yourself in the dark. Don't need any other kind of disguise. My face takes on a kind of scowl when I'm thinking. People are always telling me. Well, I don't need that kind of aggro do I? When I'm thinking in the dark, I don't need to worry what I look like. Or who's watching.

She'll be out here soon. I can hear the dishwasher. That's always the last thing. That, and a glass of wine. No more thinking for me tonight, I'm guessing. Talking, maybe. Thinking, no.

"Don't you want a light on out here?"
"If you like."