The Divine Electrician
In a time before cars
Or trains
Or planes
He wielded lightning like a spear
Hurling it at the ground
Screaming as it makes contact
Lighting fire to trees and grass
One moment, a baby deer has wandered a bit too far from the forest
The next, it is a charred, black corpse
And little humans, like ants
Stared up
Hearts pounding in their chests
Not knowing what he threw
And prescribed it as the work of a god
As they fled into their homes
Where they could still hear the thunder
But at least
They didn’t have to see the flashes of bright, painful light
Burning into their eyes.
But today
He flips the fuses
And unscrews the outlets
And he pokes a screwdriver into a socket
Checking switches and wires
Testing connections
While his client sits on black, leathery sofa
Running their finger gently down the lit, slightly cracked screen in their palms
Feeling the heat radiating from it
And watching their battery creep down.
Thirty percent…
Twenty-nine percent…
Did it just skip down to twenty-seven percent?
And the client
Is disgruntled at having to use mobile data
Until he can turn the power back on.