Light My Fire
Every woman wants a romantic man. I suspect very few women actually have them.
Not long ago, I made one of my usual trips out to the Captain’s place for dinner. I called him when I left work to give him a head’s up and started my forty-five minute drive to his house.
When I arrived, I immediately sensed that something was . . . different. I paused long enough to decide that it was probably all in my head and collected my stuff to go inside.
As I was accustomed to doing, I let myself in. The Captain was nowhere to be seen. Not much could be seen, in fact. The room was not quite dark, but certainly dim. A bit of ambient light glowed from a half a dozen candles strategically placed around the room. I stood there for a few moments, taking in the scene.
“Hello?”
“Yeah?” the Captain answered from the bedroom.
I suppose some of you are all ready to comment le sigh and tell me how lucky I am to have found such a man. And some of you may be raising an eyebrow, assuming you know where this story goes next. I have to admit that neither of those two things occurred to me in that moment.
“Hey!”
The Captain appeared in the doorway with a smile and another candle. “What?”
I pointed at the flames dancing all around me. “Power go out?” I asked.
He sighed and set the freshly lit candle among the others.
“Yup.”