Alone.

10pm, city wide blackouts. My cousins and I would huddle around and make wax people out of candle drippings - apprentices to Madame Tussaud. Sticky heat, sweat and mild body odor. The smell of singed wood from dropping wax on ants. Sepia colored memories dipped in candlelight.

Fireflies used to laugh along with us, but it’s more quiet now. In the background, a dull mechanical thrum that never leaves.

There's no more laughter. My back sticks to the couch in the 40 degree weather - day, afternoon, night. Face bathed in blue light - day, afternoon, night.