When the Cable Went Out

The cable went out at 11:47 PM during the first lightning storm of autumn.

I found Julia sitting in the dark, staring at the blank television screen. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and for a moment, I saw her as she'd been twelve years ago when we moved into this house. Before the promotions, before the mortgage, before we started eating dinner in separate rooms.

"Storm took out the box," she said, not turning around. "I was watching that documentary about climate refugees."

"I'll call tomorrow," I said, though we both knew I wouldn't. Neither of us had called the cable company since the price hike last year. We just paid the bill and watched less.

I walked into the kitchen to make tea. A bag of spinach sat wilted on the counter - I'd meant to cook it three nights ago. The way I'd meant to ask about her new coworker she mentioned last week. The way I'd meant to tell her I'd requested a demotion at work, tired of managing people who seemed more emotionally available than I felt.

"You know," Julia's voice came from the living room, "I read this article about how married couples basically become zombies after ten years. Same routines, same conversations, same disappointment wearing different clothes."

Lightning flashed again, illuminating her silhouette. She wasn't looking at me.

"That's bleak," I said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Is it?" She finally turned. "When's the last time you felt something real?"

The question hit harder than I expected. I thought about the spinach rotting on our counter while we ordered takeout again. The promotion I accepted but never wanted. The sex we scheduled like meetings.

"I cried in the car yesterday," I admitted. "Parked two blocks away and just sat there crying. No reason. Just... everything."

She studied me for a long moment. Lightning struck closer this time, and for a second, the room was bright as noon.

"The cable's not coming back on tonight," she said, standing up. "Come to bed. We could pretend we're people who don't need screens to be in the same room together."

"We're rusty at that."

"We've got time." She paused. "Unless you'd rather fix the cable."

I turned off the kitchen light. "Fuck the cable."