They’d lost power over a day during the last storm. The approaching front was equally menacing, but he’d be ready this time.
The lamps were bought for décor, continuity with the past in their 21st century home. They hadn’t even bought oil until discovering how easily their electrical service failed in bad weather.
After filling the reservoirs and lighting the wicks, he turned off the kitchen lights. The lamps’ soft amber flames resembled sprites, spiritual entities breathing the air of a world alien to them.
He extinguished the flames and turned the overhead halogens back on. Ready this time, indeed.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly flash fiction challenge.