The electricity went out last night. I love when that happens. For a lack of options, Melody and I lit almost all of the candles we could find in the house. It immediately made me want to write. There's just something about writing by candlelight that's so.... enticing. The candle's glow casts a spell over me that just makes me want to write... four hours if I could.
I think it has a similar effect on Melody. She pulled out my camera (her batteries were dead), and started taking pictures.
Maybe it's the aura. Or the silence. In this day and age, we so rarely have silence. There's the tv, or the radio, or car horns honking, or the sound of keys clicking away on a computer.
Last night, the sounds were... much more natural: the sound of the rain hitting the windows, or the sound of the distant thunder. The whisper of the wind through the trees, and the splash of the rain as the drops hit the tree's branches, or the sound of a puddle forming outside on the road.
Of course, there was the sound of my pen on the paper, and clicking of the camera, but I'm not sure those count.
And while I think Melody wanted the electricity to return (okay, I know she did), but I was thoroughly enjoying the relative novelty of the situation.
And then, my cell phone rang, thus breaking the spell.