Today I called the electrician. The light has gone out again. The bulb is dull and dead, cool to the touch. Yesterday the light was flickering, although you  were quick to claim  that you did not see it. From light to dark, fastly flipping from kind to mean. The light goes out often, but you’d  eventually turn it back on. Today the bulb only hisses in response. I try to find the breaker, but I lose my footing, stumbling to the cold ground. That’s when I make the call. You  always said the dark was worth it— saved money or something. But I don’t enjoy tripping.  I like the light. I ask the electrician to rewire the whole house. To switch out your  old bulbs, replace your  stained panels. Anything to make my house my own. Tonight I went to bed and all of the lights were on. Every bulb fixed,  shining almost as brightly as the sun.