Читать книгу When The Lights Go Out... - Barbara Daly - Страница 3

Dear Reader,

The words When the Lights Go Out once conjured up images of romance, mystery and excitement in my mind. During last August’s East Coast blackout, those words took on a whole new meaning. In Manhattan where I live, no lights also meant no stoplights at the intersections, no subways, no trains to the suburbs, packed buses, closed groceries and restaurants and no elevators in a city of skyscrapers. Worst of all, there were people in those subways and on those elevators when they ground to a halt.

New York rallied, as it always does. There were unheard-of demonstrations of good manners at those unlighted intersections, and city dwellers invited stranded suburbanites to sleep over. When I discovered my neighbors stuck in the elevator, I’d love to report that I was as levelheaded and resourceful as Blythe Padgett. Alas, my rescue efforts involved a lot of running up and down the stairs while trying to get 911 on the phone, and in between, shouting hysterical words of encouragement down the elevator shaft.

I wonder how many people ended up in the wrong bed like Blythe and found their lives changed forever. That’s something we’ll never know, because they’re not telling. Forgive me, Blythe and Max, for revealing your deep dark secret….

Barbara Daly

bdalybooks@aol.com