When the power went out toward the end of our Independence Day dinner, one guest asked, “What’s in the freezer?” Everyone else—guests and my fellow writers—drew their chairs closer around the candlelit tables and poured out a little more wine. Without power, time becomes liquid. From the back terrace, a handful of lightning bugs dotted the backyard, and we waved sparklers in response.
Later, five of us gathered in the darkness of the third floor to share stories. With the power back, corners grew sharp again. We drifted apart and returned to our work.
Theresa J. Beckhusen is a writer and editor based in Saint Paul, MN. Her work has been published in American Theatre, Ex. Ex. Midwest, The Sondheim Review, Sundog Lit, NAP Magazine, and others. She’s twenty-seven years old. You can find her on Twitter and on Tumblr.