We danced in the darkness, my mother and I, stepping lightly from note to note. If we sometimes missed our footing, we caught each other before we fell.
We could have turned on the lights, I suppose. The portable reactor on the lower level would last longer than either of us. It powered the music we danced to, the fans that moved the air, and the heating that kept us all alive. But Mom came from a generation raised to save – food, water, energy, air, you name it.
“Dancing Through Winter”
Tocsin and other stories
About the story: When Adam and Eve don’t want to follow the rules.
Inspired by Aesop.