anghara

"The light bulb glistened, pearl and silver in the gloom. She laid her hand upon it, sensing its potential energy, its promise of darkness-banishing illumination. The glass was cool against her palm, this symbol of civilization, of culture, of darkness banished by light. Surely, she thought, as she lifted it in her fingers, this little orb of frosted glass carried the very seed of hope within, that when she twisted it into its copper slot, the light would pour out, having begun its life in the great dam far to the east, barreled through cables and wires and conduits over mountains and through valleys, diving beneath pavement, or soaring above the trees. She savored the moment of drama before she began to turn it, waiting to see if the miracle would happen, if the promise of technology would be fulfilled . . . "

Sheesh. I'm bored out of my mind already. No wonder I can't read literary novels.