Phantom Energy
by Robert Swartwood
She called it phantom energy. She said it was costing us money every month. A few cents here and there, sure, but it all added up.
"Everything adds up," she said, walking around the apartment and unplugging random things. "Like this record player. How often do you actually use this thing?"
She yanked the cord.
"And this toaster. I can't even remember the last time we made toast."
She yanked another cord.
I didn't say anything. I thought it was only a phase. I let her have her way.
Then I came home one day after work and sat down and pressed the power button on the television remote.
The television didn't come on.
I got up and walked to the TV and found that it had been unplugged. So had the DVD player. So had the stereo system.
I went room to room. Everything had been unplugged.
I found her upstairs in the bedroom. She lay fully clothed on top of the bed. Her head shifted slightly when I opened the door.
"Shh," she whispered. "Can you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Just listen."
I listened.
kind of a zen story for wannabe pilgrims. my girlfriend is always unplugging my super nintendo...i h8 that. good stuff, sir
nice, and this will make a great chap title
reading it this time i laughed at the record player line...that sorta went over my head reading on the leaf page...i love that the narrator still has one
w/ some stories so tight, it's like the life gets squeezed out. not here. this one's so natural.... i can read it again and again
Sorry. Can't get up interest in a story about unplugging appliances. Perhaps if they had killed somebody, or had written a novella or something.
Such a great concept. Strikes the perfect note.
i liked this when i read it in Wigleaf. i like it still.
Thanks Frank, Dave, Scott, Ravi, and Charles for the kind words. And Craig, well, I'm sorry the only thing you took away from the story was about unplugging appliances, but thanks for reading anyway :-)
Smooth.
Thanks, Cami!
I love this Robert. Really evocative.
Thank you kindly, Marcelle!
I really like this. I agree with Scott's comment that tight as this is, the life's not been squeezed out of it. It's just right.
There was this battle inside me between the practicality of unplugging and the ridiculousness of it. I laughed throughout, so the ridiculousness won. Great tension in a small space.
Thank you, Kathy. And ... thank you, Katrina? :-)
love how the line breaks hang like the space between dominos about to fall. the end leaves me as ambiguously unsatisfied, too. ;) killer execution, Robert. dig this a lot.